EVERY day is bad joke day!
by picklevictory
Summary: your everyday, garden variety, sixth golden ticket story. based on tim burton movie, wonkaOC near the end. finished 11/2008. it was epic. 7/13/2010, NEW AUTHOR'S NOTE.
1. author's note

**EGGS TREE, EGGS TREE! it's been a while since i've written anything, so i'm thinking of doing a "charlie and the chocolate factory" story. it'll be based on the tim burton film with johnny depp as willy wonka. and yeah, there'll be some hints of wonkaOC, but not until near the end, because hey, let's keep it as realistic as possible.**

**it'll be kind of the sixth-golden-ticket plot, where a sixth person tours the factory as well. HOWEVER, she'll be closer to willy's age (kind of…she'll be nineteen…she's technically still a TEEN, therefore still kind of a child…and she's a child at heart. ^_^). don't know how old willy is in the movie…i'll think about it and make it as not-creepy as possible…like i said, hints of wonkaOC near the end.**

**and YES, i will have proper capitalization for the story. when i type intros and author's notes, i don't bother capitalizing things. so don't report me for that crap, the story WILL have proper capitalization, such as:**

"Everything in this room is eatable," Willy explained to the children. "Even I'm eatable. But that is called 'cannibalism,' my dear children, and that is frowned upon in most societies." I giggled. This man was a character.

**see? also, author's notes will be in bold. story will be in not bold.**

**so i'll get started…maybe tomorrow. i need to think of names and things.**


	2. WIZARD!

**FIRST REAL CHAPTER! YAY! so yeah, did some thinking about…names and things. picking names i liked and fitting them together.**

**DISCLAIMER: all "charlie and the chocolate factory" characters belong to roald dahl. tim burton gained permission to borrow them for his movie. i own a copy of the movie…and my two characters (maybe some other one-appearance characters with little to no significance).**

**note: "hejl" is pronounced "hail."**

**chapter 1: WIZARD!**

Gwyneth Adela Hejl lay on the couch, flipping through TV channels. It was the weekend, early afternoon, and she had NOTHING to do…and when that happened, chances were that there was NOTHING on the telly.

"Boring…seen it…drek…" Gwyneth droned as she changed channels, pausing only long enough to see what was playing. "Commercial…too scary…stupid cartoon…stupid romantic comedy…politics…ooh! BBC!" She paused. "Extras" was on! It was the Sir Ian McKellen episode…best episode, in her opinion. She flung her legs off of the couch and sat up, watching eagerly. She vaguely heard a door slam and a female voice call "I'm home!"

"Can't talk, funny!" she called back. Her mother, Alma Dusana Hejl, entered the living room, Arms laden with groceries. She glanced at the TV.

"What's funny?" she asked. Gwyneth shushed her, waving her hand frantically.

"Best part!" Gwyneth insisted.

"Sir Ian, Sir Ian, Sir Ian. Action. WIZARD! YOU SHALL NOT PASS! Cut! Sir Ian, Sir Ian, Sir Ian." Gwyneth and Alma both laughed their heads off.

"That never gets old," Gwyneth sighed. "How was grocery shopping, Mom?" Alma set the grocery bags on a nearby table. Alma and Gwyneth lived in an apartment together in England. They had actually lived in America for the first half of Gwyneth's life, though Alma hailed from England. Gwyneth's dad had passed away when she was very young, and Alma had had a few heart problems here and there; heart problems ran through her family. As Gwyneth reached high school age, Alma moved them back to England. However, Gwyneth never developed a posh British accent, which upset her sometimes, because British accents were so cool.

"Got everything on the list," Alma said, reading a piece of paper in her hands, "which is impressive, considering I didn't remember I had the list with me until I was back in the car after I bought everything." Gwyneth rolled her eyes. "And how was your day? Have you made your dentist appointment yet?"

"I was going to later today," Gwyneth said, flipping through channels again.

"Do you want me to come with you?" Alma asked. Gwyneth turned to look at her, hand still changing channels.

"Mom, I'm nineteen; I think I can make a dental appointment," Gwyneth said. Alma gave her a motherly look and sat in a nearby chair. "Besides, I was going to stop by the candy shop and say hi to Sean." Sean was a friend from school. "With that whole Golden Ticket thing happening, he could use a friendly face, some support. He's probably going bonkers with everyone and their mothers buying candy bars right and left."

"Speaking of," Alma said, pointing at the TV screen. Gwyneth looked to see ANOTHER news feature on the kids who had found the Golden Tickets. The headline was "FIFTH GOLDEN TICKET FOUND; ONE LEFT UNDER WRAPS!" They were recapping the four children who had already found the tickets before they got to the fifth.

"Okay, let's see…there's the fat one…the spoiled girl…the gum-chewing harpy…and the emo kid." Gwyneth counted off.

"Gwyneth!" Alma scolded.

"Okay, you're right," Gwyneth said, hands up. "He's too young to be emo." Then they started showing images of the fifth kid. His name was Charlie Bucket, and he lived in England as well. He looked genuinely happy to have won a Golden Ticket. His family consisted of his parents and four very old grandparents; they lived in…a shack, for lack of a better word.

"He looks like a neat kid," Alma said cheerfully.

"Mom!" Gwyneth whined at her mother's use of such an archaic expression.

"Oh, hush," Alma said playfully. "It's a lot better than most of the slang out there today." Gwyneth nodded in agreement. "So, there's only one Ticket left. Who do you think will win it?"

"Someone?" Gwyneth suggested. Alma gave her that look again. "Okay, I have a dentist appointment to make and a frazzled friend to visit." Gwyneth stood up and walked over to hug her mom. "I'll call you when I'm on my way home."

**later afternoon, streets of England**

Gwyneth walked fast to the candy shop where Sean worked. It was freezing outside. She approached a door quickly, then just as quickly backed off. She had almost walked into a home furnishings store. The next door over was the candy store. There was a lull in customers, so Gwyneth walked right up to the counter to talk to Sean, who was half-collapsed on the counter.

"How's it going, slave to the chocolate industry?" she said cheekily. Sean didn't move.

"So…many…people…" he groaned. "You just missed them, you lucky." Gwyneth looked around; there were four, maybe five people in the shop. Sean finally picked himself up. "What are you doing here, anyway?"

"I figured you needed some moral support," she shrugged. Sean pouted. "Hey, there's only one left. Then life will become relatively normal again."

"If I ever meet Willy Wonka," Sean said deadpan, "remind me to kill him for making life hell for all purveyors of candy."

"You mean Willy Wonka-tonk-ba-donk-a-donk?" Gwyneth quipped. Sean shook his head.

"That was…just awful," he said.

"Hey, every day for me is a bad joke day," Gwyneth said simply. And it was true. She made bad jokes constantly. Sean just continued to shake his head. Gwyneth looked around the shop and noticed the considerable amount of Wonka bars left on the shelves. "Well, there can't be THAT many people buying candy today. You seem pretty well-stocked."

"That's the hundredth box I've unloaded today," Sean said, fear returning to his eyes. "They're relentless…you have NO idea." Gwyneth walked over and picked up a couple of bars.

"Well, I hope you can stand it, because I'm buying a couple of bars," she said, placing them on the counter. "One for me, one for my mom. I feel like treating her." Sean rang her order up. Gwyneth placed one bar in her coat pocket and started opening the other bar.

"Hey!" Sean said.

"What? Just because I'm being nice to my mom doesn't mean I can't satisfy my sweet tooth right now!" She opened the foil lining and noticed something a little different. She froze. "Uh, Sean?"

"What?"

"Are all Wonka bars wrapped in gold foil now?" Sean's eyes practically bugged out of his head. Gwyneth examined the gold wrapper carefully. This was most definitely the last Golden Ticket. And some of the other patrons in the store had noticed. They were pointing and whispering.

"If you value your life, I'd suggest running," Sean whispered.

"Right-o," Gwyneth whispered back, bolting for the door. Not many people followed her, because she hid the ticket out of sight. She reached the apartment complex and bounded up the steps, two at a time. She threw the door open.

"MOM!" she yelled.

"In the kitchen, Gwyneth!" her mom called. Gwyneth ran into the kitchen. "Everything all right, hon? You didn't call."

"Mom, look," she said, placing the Ticket on the kitchen table. Alma's eyes grew wide. Gwyneth dug into her other pocket. "I got you a candy bar, too."

"Well, we know there's nothing like that in there!" Alma exclaimed. "How many people know, were you mobbed by anyone?"

"Sean witnessed the…discovery…so he probably told people what my name was and we'll be mobbed tonight." Gwyneth ran a hand through her hair, still in disbelief. Alma read through the Ticket carefully.

"Gwyneth, this says October first! That's tomorrow!" Alma told her.

"If you're referring to my dental appointment, I made it for later in the month; it's booked up until then," Gwyneth said.

"It also says you can bring one member of your family." Gwyneth pretended to think. Alma was the only family Gwyneth had in the world, so Alma was already rolling her eyes at her daughter's silliness.

"Mom, you want to come with me? Splendid! Nine-forty sound good to you?" Alma ruffled Gwyneth's hair.

"You silly girl," she teased. "I swear, you act more and more like a ten-year-old every day."

"What? It's says we need to be there at ten 'o' clock, so we should probably leave at nine-forty!" Gwyneth said innocently. "And if I'm acting like a ten-year-old, that's good. This is a KIDS' contest, after all. And if I'm not a kid anymore, I should act like one!"

"Well, you're MY kid, and I say that you should stay on your best behavior," Alma advised. Gwyneth smiled at her mom.

"I just can't believe I won," she admitted. "Six Tickets amongst…what has to be MILLIONS of candy bars, and I happen upon one." Alma hugged her daughter. "Now, we should look presentable, because we're probably going to be swarmed tonight."

**later that night, at the Bucket residence**

"Charlie, look!" Mrs. Bucket called. Charlie went downstairs to sit next to Grandpa Joe. "Someone's found the sixth Golden Ticket!" Charlie didn't say anything. He didn't want to get too excited, because the other four winners were awful enough.

"Bet this one's as rotten as the rest of them," Grandpa George muttered. Grandpa Joe shushed him. The image of a young woman filled the screen. She was curled up on a couch, a large pillow resting on her lap. A graphic revealed her name to be Gwyneth Hejl.

"Well, she's older than the rest of them, so she's probably more well-behaved," Grandpa Joe suggested. Charlie watched the interview.

"So, Gwyneth, how old are you?" the newperson asked her. "You're quite a bit older than the rest of the winners."

"I'm nineteen," Gwyneth said. "So I'm technically still in my teens, so that should count for eligibility. Besides, what if some fifty-year-old with a sweet tooth had won? You couldn't very well tell them to give the Ticket to some little kid; everyone had a fair chance, and…I got lucky somehow."

"Well, she's humble," Grandpa George muttered.

"So, how exactly did this happen?" the interviewer asked.

"I had just made an appointment with my dentist—" Gwyneth was cut off by the interviewer.

"You made a dental appointment and then bought candy?" Gwyneth just shrugged.

"I like chocolate, what can I say?" She turned to the camera. "And I apologize to my dentist in advance." Charlie smiled. "But really, I went to a candy shop that a friend works at. I wanted to see how he was doing since…well, he works in a candy shop, and with all the flap-doodle and hoo-ha about these Tickets…I'm giving Wonka a piece of my mind tomorrow. Sean might never recover from the horrors he's witnessed." The interviewer laughed at that.

"She's a quick one, isn't she?" Mrs. Bucket said.

"But I wanted to surprise my mom with something sweet because…well, she's my mom, and I love her. Say hi, Mom!" Gwyneth turned off-camera and called to someone. Another older woman sat on the couch and waved to the camera. "This is my mom, Alma. Anyway, I bought a candy bar for myself as well, opened it and…there it was." Gwyneth held the Golden Ticket up.

"Were you immediately mobbed by everyone within a ten-foot radius?" the interviewer asked.

"No, I hid the Ticket in my pocket," Gwyneth said, "but I'm pretty sure Sean called you and told you my name and where I lived, figuring he'd get something out of it." Gwyneth gave a disparaging look to the camera. "Sean, I am very disappointed in you. Isn't your job fulfilling enough? Stop dropping names to make a buck!" Charlie and the adults laughed at that; even Grandpa George smirked a little. "Just kidding; love you, Sean!" Gwyneth smiled and blew a kiss to the camera.

"So, are you excited for the tour of the chocolate factory tomorrow?" the newsperson asked.

"Of course I am," Gwyneth said. "It's a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. I actually feel quite honored to have won something so prestigious. And I'm really excited for my mom to share the time with me. She's like my best friend." Her mom hugged her.

"Aw, I love you, too," Alma said sweetly. The interview ended with the two Hejls smiling and hugging. Mr. Bucket turned the TV off.

"She seems nice," Mr. Bucket said. Charlie nodded.

"She's funny," the boy said happily. "I can't wait to meet her."

"She's the only one of the lot worth meeting," Grandpa George grumbled.

"I'm a song from the sixties!" Grandma Georgina said happily.

**end of chapter one. anyone know where grandma georgina's line came from, you get extra kudos. second chapter will be up within a few days. flames will not be accepted. they will be deleted (if i have that power).**


	3. what wonka witnessed

**hello! sorry for the bit of the delay. i had to write a paper for my religion class, so that owned my writing abilities for a while. this chapter will be KIND OF filler, but i want to watch the movie again before Gwyneth goes to the factory. **

**this story has already been story-alerted twice, which is cool. really, i don't write for the reviews and stuff; i write because i like to write, and this idea just popped into my head and developed over time. so really, as long as people read it, i'm happy. and is they read it and don't like it…then have the common courtesy not to tell me it's a piece of shite.**

**i did the disclaimer in the first chapter; you won't see another one. one is enough.**

**chapter 2: what wonka witnessed**

**wonka's POV**

**late at night before the day of the factory tour**

Willy Wonka sat in a comfy chair in his room watching the TV. A special on all of the Golden Ticket finders was airing on the nightly news, and he wanted to see who had real promise.

The first children was a fat German child who went by the name of Augustus Gloop. They played the footage they took when they first interviewed him.

"I'm eating the Wonka bar," Augustus said, his mouth full of chocolate, "and I taste something that is not chocolate, or coconut, or walnut, or peanut butter, or nougat, or butter brittle, or caramel, or sprinkles. So I look, and I find the Golden Ticket!" He held up the Ticket, which had a corner missing, thanks to his rotten teeth. Wonka made a face of disgust and shuddered. Seemed as if all the kid cared about was candy and the consumption thereof.

The next finder was a British girl in dire need of braces. Her name was Veruca Salt. _Isn't that also the name of a 90's alt rock band?_ Wonka thought. Pushing his thoughts aside, he listened to the girl's father talk about how his factory workers shelled chocolate bars night and day to find the Golden Ticket. Meanwhile, the little girl milked her moment for what it was worth, posing with the Golden Ticket for many flashbulbs. Wonka winced; she had the smile of someone who is often told she has an enchanting smile (mostly told because she could sue you if told otherwise). And technically, she hadn't been the one to find the Golden Ticket. She just wanted everything the world could offer her.

The third Ticket had been found by an American girl named Violet Beauregarde. She was holding the Ticket, looking slightly bored, and chewing on a piece of gum. She was saying SOMETHING, but Wonka wasn't listening; her gum-chewing was hypnotizing…she just didn't stop…she had been chewing that gum for THREE MONTHS?! Her jaw must be sore…and then there was her mom. Mommie dearest kept talking about how many trophies Violet had won, and how many SHE had won in her own childhood, "mostly for baton." And now it seemed that dear old Mumsie was living vicariously through her daughter. Wonka would have probably pitied the child if she wasn't so focused on winning herself. And on gum. That gum had to have NO flavor by now. Eww.

The fourth child was another kid from America named Mike Teavee, and he was aptly named. Through his interview, he was parked in front of the television playing some video game, talking about how he had won the Ticket.

"All you had to do was check the manufacturing dates, offset by weather and separate by the Nekei index," Mike said, never looking away from his game. "A retard could figure it out."

"No kidding," Wonka muttered as the kid yelled "DIE! DIE! DIE!" to the screen. And then the kid had the nerve to say he didn't even like chocolate! Wonka paused the story (because he had Tivo), went to his kitchen, filled up a glass of water, sat back down, unpaused the story and rewinded it a little.

"I hate chocolate!" Mike said as Wonka sipped his full glass of water. At this proclamation, the water proceeded to go flying everywhere. Wonka felt mildly better; spittakes could make ANYONE laugh (except maybe for this kid).

The fifth kid lived just a short ways away from the factory itself. His name was Charlie Bucket, and he lived with his mother, his father, and four VERY old grandparents. The house itself was nothing more than a shack; the grandparents had to share a bed. But the boy didn't seem to care. As long as he had his family, he was content. And he seemed genuinely happy to have found the Golden Ticket; he didn't have any hidden agenda. The corner of Wonka's mouth turned upwards a little.

The story turned to the final Golden Ticket finder. The camera turned to a young woman playing a piano in an apartment room. Wonka listened for a few seconds…Beethoven's Choral Fantasy, he identified. It wasn't the greatest, but it definitely sounded like it was coming along. She lived in England, but had grown up in America, so she didn't have a British accent.

"My mom taught herself how to play the piano," she said, "and she taught me. Now I teach myself…whatever I feel like learning." Further questioning revealed that her age was nineteen, so she was technically an adult, but still in her teens, so…Wonka would have to decide if she was eligible for the grand prize based on her age. The girl's name was Gwyneth Hejl, and she was asked about its origin.

"'Hejl' is a Czech name," Gwyneth explained. "It's actually pretty fun when teachers call my name for class because it's always last name first. So whenever someone says 'Hejl, Gwyneth,' I usually go 'Yes! Hail me, for I am the ruler of this class and everything that I deem awesome!'" She was met with awkward silence. "Yeah, you learn very quickly that I make bad jokes all the time." Wonka shook his head with a small smile. She would be entertaining to have around. The story ended showing her playing more Beethoven, stumbling on a few notes, and looking up at the camera with a flustered giggle and a smile.

Wonka turned the TV off. He was in for quite a day tomorrow. Four of those kids were DEFINITELY going to be a pain; Charlie would be the only bearable kid. Gwyneth wasn't technically a kid, but he still looked forward to meeting her; she had a sharp personality. Yep, tomorrow would be VERY interesting.

**next chapter will be up…soon…**


	4. amazingly bizarre

**hello! so that religion paper was fun to write…NOT. actually, it was pretty interesting, but i'm pretty sure you'd rather read about gwyneth's latest escapades. so on we go!**

**just a note: i KNOW corpse bride was released after this tim burton movie, but so was that episode of extras i referenced in the first chapter. so whatever. sue me.**

**chapter 3: amazingly bizarre**

**in the morning**

Gwyneth sat at the piano in the apartment plunking through some Handel while waiting for her mom. She loved playing this piano. It was given to her mom by her mom and so on; it was rather old, but it had that sound of an often-played, well-loved piano. In her opinion, it sounded better than the grandest grand piano in existence. She stopped to look at her watch; it was nine-fifteen. She tiptoed to her mom's room and knocked on the door.

"Come in!" she heard her mom call. Gwyneth opened the door to see Alma still in her pajamas.

"Hey, Mom, it's almost time to go," Gwyneth said.

"Oh, I'm sorry, honey," Alma said, sounding a little hoarse. "I'm not feeling very well; I had a rough time sleeping last night." She did look pale…Gwyneth held the back of her hand to Alma's forehead.

"You do feel a bit feverish," Gwyneth said.

"I'm sure if I just drink some tea…" Alma murmured.

"No, Mom, your health comes first," Gwyneth insisted. "With your heart, I wouldn't want you to get really sick." Alma had always had a weak heart, and it had put her in the hospital too many times during Gwyneth's life. Heart problems had a history in Alma's family, so it was to be expected.

"When did my little girl grow up to be such a responsible young woman?" Alma said, lovingly touching Gwyneth's cheek.

"Mom, I'm not quite grown up yet," Gwyneth teased. "I'm touring one of the most famous chocolate factories today; I'll be as excited as a kid in a candy store." Alma gave her one of those "your jokes are terrible" looks. "Oh, get over it, Mom; my jokes are brilliant. You just stay home, rest, watch cheesy romantic comedies. I'll have my phone with me, so you just call me if you're going anywhere or want me to come home. I'm sure Mr. Wonka would understand."

"Okay, dear," Alma said. "You're probably right. Tell Mr. Wonka I say 'Hi.' Be safe. And have fun."

"And bring you some chocolate, right?" Gwyneth added. Alma smiled at her daughter, kissed her on the cheek, and watched her leave, shouting "Love you!" behind her.

Before Gwyneth left, she examined her reflection in the full-length mirror in her room. She had decided to wear her comfiest pair of blue jeans, a skirt with different colored panels over said jeans, and her favorite T-shirt (black, and it said "hugs and kisses" with skulls and crossbones) under her favorite "Corpse Bride" hoodie. On her feet were her red low-rise Chucks with black laces. Her hair was down, but a small barrette clipped back some pesky bangs that were growing out. And to finish the look, she wore a pair of black fingerless gloves with white lace accents; she thought they looked like something Jane Austen would have worn today.

She thought she looked strange enough to leave an impression on everyone, but she looked like her, and that's what was really important, that she stay true to herself. She smiled and headed off to the factory.

**in front of the factory**

It was three minutes to ten. Gwyneth walked towards the very large crowd that was gathered around the gates of the factory, shivering.

"Why is it this cold in October?" Gwyneth grumbled. "What is this, Minnesota?" She pushed her way through the crows, using her Golden Ticket as incentive, and stood at the end of the line, next to a small boy. "Have I missed anything exciting yet?"

"Make time go faster!" she heard a certain, snobby little British girl demand to her daddy.

"Apparently not," Gwyneth mumbled. The small boy looked at Gwyneth and smiled. She smiled back.

"Hi, I'm Charlie Bucket," he said, offering his hand. Gwyneth shook it.

"I'm Gwyneth Hejl," she said. "What's up, Charlie?" He looked puzzled for a minute.

"Um…not much," he said sheepishly. "How about you? What's up?"

"The ground if you're upside down," Gwyneth deadpanned. Charlie looked even more puzzled and looked down to interpret what she had just said. She punched him playfully in the shoulder. "Hey, cheer up, Charlie." She offered him a smile, which he returned. Without warning, the gates began to open. They were in dire need of some WD-40 from lack of use for…who knows how many years.

"Please enter," a voice said. Gwyneth stepped forward with the other Ticket finders. "Close the gates." The gates closed. "I welcome you to my humble factory." Gwyneth snorted; this factory made the best commercial chocolate in the world…not exactly humble. "And who am I?"

"God?" Gwyneth suggested. She heard Charlie snort.

"Well…" the voice said mysteriously. Some doors in front of the Ticket finders opened. Calliope-esque music began to play, and puppets reminiscent of Disneyworld began to "dance" around mechanically and sing.

_Willy Wonka, Willy Wonka_

_The amazing chocolatier!_

_Willy Wonka, Willy Wonka_

_Everybody give a cheer!_

"Hooray?" Gwyneth cheered with the puppets.

_He's modest, clever, and so smart_

_He barely can restrain it_

_There's so much generosity_

_There is nowhere to contain it…to contain it_

_To contain, to contain, to contaaaaaaaaaaaain!_

Gwyneth leaned over to Charlie to whisper something.

"If he's singing about being modest, he's not exactly modest, is he?" she said. Charlie giggled. She smirked back as the puppets continued to dance and chortle like the Ozians from "The Wizard of Oz" (ha ha ha, ho ho ho, etc. etc. etc).

_Willy Wonka, Willy Wonka_

_He's the one that you're about to meet!_

_Willy Wonka, Willy Wonka_

_He's the genius who just can't be beat_

_A magician and a chocolate whiz_

_The best darn guy who ever lived_

_Willy Wonka, here he iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiis!_

A chair in the middle of the stage turned around to reveal…NO ONE!

"He's invisible?" Gwyneth exclaimed. "That's quite unfortunate." If anyone wanted to say anything to her, they didn't. They were too repulsed by the music distorting and the puppets melting. Gwyneth's eyes went wide. "That…was…AMAZINGLY bizarre." Then things started to catch fire. "And my inner pyromania has been satiated." Suddenly, a loud, clapping noise filled her left ear; she turned to see…a man clapping. She just about jumped out of her skin.

"Wasn't that just magnificent?!" he exclaimed. "I was worried it was getting a little dodgy in the middle part but that finale…WOW!" Gwyneth just stared at him.

"HOW LONG WERE YOU STANDING THERE?!" she yelled. He just stepped up on some stairs in front of everyone.

"Who are you?" the gum-chewing harpy dressed all in blue asked snottily.

"He's Willy Wonka!" the old man standing next to Charlie said happily.

"He's Willy Wonka?" Gwyneth said unsuredly. She looked at him…a nice, long, observant look. He had a purple velvet coat, a candy-filled cane, a top hat, bug-eye sunglasses, VERY pale skin, purple latex gloves (kinky), a bob haircut, and a nervous smile.

"Good morning, starshine!" he said. "The earth says hello!" Everyone just stared.

"Oh, dear God, we're all gonna die," Gwyneth said to herself. Charlie elbowed her in the side. "Ow! Unnecessary!" Wonka pulled some index cards out of his jacket pocket.

"Dear guests," he read, "greetings! Welcome to the factory! I shake you warmly by the hand." He stuck his hand out, then looked at the group and hastily withdrew it. "My name is Willy Wonka!"

"Then shouldn't you be up there?" British girl asked. _I have GOT to learn these people's names_,' Gwyneth thought.

"Well, I couldn't very well watch the show from up there, now could I, little girl?" Wonka said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Gwyneth nodded her head in agreement. He made a good point.

"Plus, he'd probably be on fire," she added. Wonka.

"Exactly!" he agreed. The old man walked up to Wonka shyly.

"Mr. Wonka," he began, "I don't know if you remember me, but I used to work here in the factory." Wonka's face fell.

"Were you one of those despicable spies who everyday tried to steal my life's work and sell it to those parasitic copy-cat candy-making cads?" he asked gravely.

"No, sir," the old man stuttered. Wonka's face lit up again.

"Wonderful, welcome back!" he said happily.

"Dude, NICE alliteration!" Gwyneth said to Wonka.

"Why, thanks!" he said to her momentarily before turning to the rest of the group. "Let's get a move on, shall we?" Everyone began to follow him.

"Don't you want to know our names?" the fat German boy asked.

"Can't imagine how it would matter," Wonka said off-handedly.

"Good, because I don't know the names of anyone except you," Gwyneth whispered to Charlie. Charlie acknowledged the old man.

"This is my grandpa Joe," Charlie introduced. Gwyneth shook the old man's hand.

"Pleasure to meet you, Charlie's grandpa Joe," Gwyneth said. "You have a fine grandson; he has a sense of humor, so he should get through life fine." Joe nodded. The talking stopped as everyone entered a large hallway. The temperature rose considerably.

"Just drop your coats anywhere," Wonka said casually. He removed his overcoat to reveal a maroon velvet suit jacket. Gwyneth made a mental note to buy a similar one later, because that jacket was made of AWESOME! He also removed his sunglasses, and Gwyneth could see that he had lavender-colored eyes. She wondered if they were contacts or not. Without warning, the gum-chewing harpy threw her arms around Wonka's waist. He gasped and looked repulsed. Gwyneth bit back laughter, taking her coat off as she watched the scene play out.

"Mr. Wonka, I'm Violet Beauregarde," the harpy said, letting go of his waist and giving what she assumed to be an angelic smile.

"Oh…" Wonka said, still creeped out. "I don't care." Gwyneth smirked.

"Well, you should care," Violet bragged, "because I'm the girl that's going to win the special prize at the end." Gwyneth rolled her eyes.

"Well, you do seem confident," Wonka said doubtedly, "and confidence is key." Violet's mom, wearing the exact same thing as her daughter (which defied all levels of creepiness) arched an eyebrow at her daughter. Wonka tried to keep walking when snobby British girl blocked his path.

"I'm Veruca Salt. It's very nice to meet you, sir," she said curtseying. Gwyneth coughed, working a "liar" in there. Veruca's father glared at her.

"I always thought a verruca was a type of wart you got on the bottom of your foot," Wonka said, letting out a little giggle. Veruca was not amused. Gwyneth was. Now it was fat German boy's turn.

"I'm Augustus Gloop," he said with a mouth full of masticated candy bar. "I love your chocolate." Gwyneth had the sudden urge to vomit.

"I can see that," Wonka said, masking his disgust. "So do I. I never expected to have so much in common." He was about to start walking again when he stopped and turned to address the other kids. He turned to Emo boy. "You, you're Mike Teavee. You're the little devil who cracked the system." Mike's dazed facial expression didn't change. Then he addressed Charlie. "And you, well you're just lucky to be here, aren't you?" Gwyneth frowned; that was rather condescending. "And these must be your p-…" Wonka froze. He seemed to be having trouble with the word…

"Parents?" Mr. Salt suggested.

"Yeah!" Wonka said. "Moms and dads." His eyes went wide. "Dad…Papa?" Gwyneth noticed he had drifted off into his own little world (which seemed full of grim memories), so she threw her coat at him. Said coat hit him in the face, causing him to jolt and look at her.

"What?" she said innocently. "You said we could drop our coats anywhere; I dropped it in your general direction." She could hear Charlie laughing, though she didn't look away from the chocolatier.

"You're the one that was making snarky comments through the animatronic puppet show, weren't you?" Wonka said with that strange smile of his.

"Yep, that was me!" Gwyneth said proudly, sticking her hand out. "I'm Gwyneth." Wonka stared at her hand uneasily. "Dude, come on, I'm wearing gloves, you're wearing gloves…you can't be THAT much of a germaphobe." Wonka shrugged and shook her hand. For a guy who was afraid of human contact, he had a very firm grip. "So…what's up?" Wonka looked taken aback.

"Um...we're about to tour my factory?" he said. "Um…what's up?"

"I believe it's best described as the direction contrary to the pull of gravity," Gwyneth deadpanned. Everyone gave her a weird look; meh, she was used to it.

"I dig your vernacular!" Wonka said cheerfully. Gwyneth was touched.

"That is the sweetest thing any guy has ever said to me!" she said, "which, in retrospect, is quite sad." Wonka looked around.

"Don't you have a p-…" Wonka couldn't say it again.

"No, my mom was going to come, but she wasn't feeling well," Gwyneth helped him out. "She says hi, by the by." Wonka nodded.

"Well, hi by the by back to her!" he said, turning around to lead the group to their next destination. Gwyneth smiled. He seemed just as strange as she seemed to be to the rest of the world. He kind of got her. Maybe they weren't all gonna die after all.

As they were all walking, Gwyneth looked around to see how people were interacting. Violet and Veruca had linked arms.

"Let's be friends," Veruca said with a fake smile.

"Best friends," Violet agreed just as falsely. The eye-rolls they gave as they looked away were a dead giveaway. Meanwhile, Mike's dad was talking to Veruca's dad.

"Is it just me, or is Wonka a few quarters short of a buck?" Mike's dad joked. Mr. Salt gave him a look.

"I'm sorry, I don't speak American," he said. Gwyneth decided to interrupt.

"He means a few pence short of a pound," she suggested. "Or a few shillings short of a crown. Or a few cents short of a euro, I can never keep British currency straight." Mr. Salt gave her a discerning look as well.

"Speaking of," he said to Mike's dad. They both laughed. Gwyneth shrugged; just like the weird looks, she was used to it. The group approached a rather tiny door.

"An important room, this," Wonka said excitedly. "After all, it IS a chocolate factory."

"Then why is the door so small?" Mike asked.

"Oh my god, it speaks!" Gwyneth said in regards to Mike. Wonka ignored her.

"That's to keep all the great big chocolatey flavor inside!" Wonka said logically. Gwyneth nodded. Wonka took out a very tiny key, turned it in the lock, and pushed the door (rather, the wall) open.

**CLIFFHANGER KIND OF! next chapter will be the chocolate room.**

**a guy did once tell me "i dig your vernacular," and it is actually one of the sweetest things a guy has ever said to me. sad, huh?**

**next chapter will probably up tomorrow.**


	5. you'll learn when you're older

**hello! i told you the next chapter would be up tomorrow…rather, today. apparently, i've been distracting people from their nanowrimo stories. may i just say, too all you nanowrimo-ers, you are better people than myself. and i'm sorry this story is so distracting…actually, i'm not. that means it's a good story!**

**chapter 4: you'll learn when you're older**

Gwyneth's jaw dropped at the first sight of the Chocolate Room. There was a chocolate waterfall, VERY green grass, a little bridge, and mushrooms all over.

"Cue the Jefferson Airplane music because this is TRIPPY," she murmured. Wonka walked into the room a little bit, everyone following him, mouths agape.

"Now, do be careful, my dear children," Wonka advised. "Don't lose your heads. Don't get overexcited. Just keep very calm."

"That's what she said," Gwyneth muttered. She felt a tug on her sleeve. It was Charlie.

"Who's she?" Charlie asked.

"I'll tell you when you're older, dear," Gwyneth said sweetly, patting him on the head. They continued to look at the factory in wonder. Gwyneth looked at Grandpa Joe, since he had worked here earlier in his life; he had obviously never seen this room, but he seemed as if he was familiar with the Wonka brand of genius-osity. Then she looked at Augustus; if he were Quagmire, by now he'd be going "Giggety-giggety-giggety!" (because he loves chocolate so much, not because he's a pervert).

"It's beautiful," Charlie said.

"What?" Wonka turned to Charlie, then turned back around. "Oh, yeah, it's very beautiful." He didn't seem to care. Then again, he lived here and invented the room, so… He began to lead the group over the bridge. "Every drop of this river is hot melted chocolate of the finest quality." Gwyneth was listening as she focused on not falling into said hot-melted-chocolate-of-the-finest-quality. The bridge was pretty precarious. Once he was safely over the bridge, he turned around again. "The waterfall is most important. It mixes the chocolate. Makes it light and frothy. By the way, no other factory in the world mixes its chocolate by waterfall, my dear children. And you can take that to the bank." Gwyneth raised her hand.

"Which bank?" she asked. "The money bank? Blood bank? Sperm bank?" Grandpa Joe covered Charlie's ears as the adults all gave her the usual discerning looks; the children hadn't noticed because they were either drooling over the chocolate or, in Mike's case, being apathetic. She put on an innocent face. "What?" Wonka simply smiled and shook his head. He turned around again to let the rest of the group over the bridge. Gwyneth took Grandpa Joe's arm, because the bridge was a little steep and narrow, and she didn't want him to fall into the river.

"I like your suit jacket, by the by," she said to him; his suit jacket was a brown plaid. Charlie watched the interaction; Gwyneth noticed and gave him a little wink.

"Oh, thank you," Grandpa Joe said happily. She smiled at him. He got safely to the main land. Gwyneth almost did; then she tripped over a small rock-candy rock, yelping as she fell to the ground where Wonka's feet happened to be. Everyone stared at her. She popped up.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," she assured everyone; no one really seemed to care and began to walk away.

"I give you a 7.3 for not sticking your dismount," Wonka said. Gwyneth scoffed.

"What are you, the Russian judge?" she muttered. Then she noticed a thing and pointed at it. "Ooh, what's that thing?" Wonka looked at where she was pointing.

"People!" he called to the group, who turned around. The thing Gwyneth was pointing at was a large pipe. "Those pipes suck up the chocolate and carry it away all over the factory. Thousands of gallons an hour. Yeah." Gwyneth nodded; that sure was handy. Then Wonka motioned to the field. "And do you like my meadow? Try my grass. Please have a blade, please do. It's so delectable and so darn good looking."

"You can eat the grass?" Charlie asked. Wonka smiled at him.

"Of course you can," he said. "Everything in this room is eatable, even I'm eatable! But that is called 'cannibalism,' my dear children, and is in fact frowned upon in most societies. Yeah."

"Not on Fleet Street, it isn't," Gwyneth muttered.

"What was that?" Wonka asked.

"Nothing!" Gwyneth said hastily. "Just a reference to another Tim Burton movie that hasn't yet been filmed yet based on a Sondheim musical." Wonka nodded, giving her a wary smile.

**meanwhile, in London, on fleet street**

Sweeney Todd was polishing one of his friends while Mrs. Lovett was rolling dough. He suddenly stopped with the strangest feeling.

"Mrs. Lovett," he said.

"What is it, love?" she asked, continuing to roll dough.

"I had the strangest feeling that a young woman in an amazing chocolate factory two centuries from now knows about what we're doing." Mrs. Lovett stopped and glared at him.

"Love, have you gotten into the gin again?" she chastised. Sweeney shook his head, looking a little crazy…and not in the usual way. "The judge, dear." THAT snapped him out of it. He went back to his brooding and friend-polishing…(**and i just realized how bad "friend-polishing" sounds…**)

**back at the factory**

"Enjoy!" Wonka said to everyone, spreading his arms out wide. Augustus immediately ran off to eat anything and everything in copious amounts. Everyone else began to eat various plant life/sugary whatnot. Gwyneth just walked around, still looking at everything. It was such a beautiful place…ew, there was Augustus pigging out…ah, yes, the view with Augustus out of eyesight was MUCH more beautiful. She smiled.

"Well, what do you think?" a voice asked her. She turned to see Wonka smiling at her.

"I feel like a kid in a candy store," she said. "Pun definitely intended." Wonka raised his eyebrows.

"And why aren't you stuffing your face silly like the rest of the group?" he asked. Gwyneth shrugged.

"I wouldn't really know where to begin," Gwyneth admitted. "You're the candy expert, why don't you help me out?" Wonka shrugged and started walking beside Gwyneth.

"I hope I'm not being rude, but I have to ask," Wonka said, "what's with all the jokes and commentary?"

"You mean all the bad jokes?" Gwyneth teased. Wonka frowned.

"I don't think they're bad!" he said, stopping at a candied apple tree. He plucked one from a higher branch and handed it to her.

"Well, you're the only one, then," Gwyneth said, taking the apple. She raised it to the air, looking upwards. "Here's to you, Eve." She took a bite as she heard Wonka giggle again. She smiled inwardly; that giggle was a LITTLE annoying, but also kind of adorable.

"Is everything a joke to you?" he asked, still giggling.

"Only the things that matter," Gwyneth said. "Life can get depressing at times, especially with politics and the economy and such. You can't take everything so seriously all the time; if you do, life isn't entirely worth living. That's why I joke all the time, to give people a little bit of absurdity and light-heartedness. Sure, I get a lot of looks and grumbles for it, but if I don't try to lighten things up, then who will?" Wonka nodded.

"It's like me with chocolate!" he concluded happily. "I make chocolate to make people happy. And because I love chocolate, of course." Gwyneth nodded.

"I suppose," she mused. "And you certainly have an effect on people. But to me, that's a good thing." She took another bite of the apple. As she was brought up not to talk with food in her mouth, she pointed to the apple, and then gave Wonka a thumbs-up. He smiled. "So, Mr. Wonka, how long have you been doing this whole candy thing?"

"Twenty years, give or take," he shrugged.

"Uh-huh, and how old were you when you started?" she asked.

"Nineteen," he said casually. She almost choked on her bite of apple.

"That's how old I am now!" she exclaimed. "And I haven't done jack squat with my life!"

"Well, what DO you want to do with your life?" he asked. She looked at him; he was genuinely interested, unlike other adults, who just asked her that question out of politeness.

"I really don't know," she confessed. "I'm taking classes right now, but just the basics. Haven't declared a major yet…that kinda sucks, though. I bet all these kids have got a future already laid out for them."

"Really?" Wonka said, intrigued. "Indulge me." Gwyneth looked over the kids carefully, Wonka following her gaze. She pointed at each of the kids as she guessed.

"Charlie will probably become a humanitarian of sorts," she guessed. "Mike will probably design video games, or at least win several awards for playing them…Violet will be a gum enthusiast, maybe the new Orbit spokesperson…Veruca will become famous for doing nothing but being rich…and Augustus will win many World's Fattest Man contests." At this time, Augustus was shoveling whipped cream mushrooms into his mouth.

"Ew," both Gwyneth and Wonka said. They both turned at the sound of Veruca telling her "daddy" to look somewhere.

"What is it?" Veruca asked. Gwyneth walked over to the growing group. "It's a little person, over there by the waterfall."

"Um, I think the correct terminology is 'dwarf,'" Gwyneth suggested. But indeed, there was a very tiny person jackhammering…something.

"There's two of them!" Violet's mom said.

"There's more than two," Mike's dad pointed out. And indeed there were. There were several tiny persons doing various candy-related things.

"Where do they come from?" Augustus's mom asked.

"Ooh! I know this!" Gwyneth said excitedly. "Um…Whoville! No, wait…Middle-earth?"

"Who are they?" Charlie asked in wonderment.

"Are they real people?" Mike asked sullenly. Wonka gave him a look.

"Of course they're real people!" Wonka answered. "They're Oompa-Loompas!"

"Oompa-Loompas?" Veruca's dad said, the word sounding strange on his tongue. Wonka nodded.

"Imported, directly from Loompaland," Wonka informed. Gwyneth snapped her fingers.

"Loompaland!" she exclaimed. "I was SO close!"

"There's no such place," Mike's dad said matter-of-factly. Wonka looked a little angry.

"What?" he said sharply.

"Mr. Wonka, I teach high school geography," Mike's dad said.

"Ew," Gwyneth piped in. Mike's dad looked at her. "No offense; I had bad experiences with geography teachers."

"Well, then, you'll know all about it," Wonka said, "and, oh, what a terrible country it is." He then talked about how he had visited Loompaland and happened upon the Oompa-Loompas, and how they came into his employment.

"They are such wonderful workers," he said wistfully. Gwyneth looked pensive. "I feel I must warn you, though, that they are rather mischievous, always making jokes." He giggled. Gwyneth looked at him.

"You were a lot less pale back then," she remarked. Wonka looked at her strangely. She just shrugged.

"Augustus, mein child, that is not a good thing you do!" Mrs. Gloop shouted. Everyone looked over. Augustus was eating the chocolate from the river with his bare hands. Gwyneth grimaced.

"Why don't kids ever listen?" she asked herself.

"Hey, little boy!" Wonka called, stepping forward. "My chocolate must be untouched by human hands!" That didn't stop good ol' Augustus, though…in fact, he was SO enthralled by the chocolate that he decided he wanted to bathe in it! And therefore, he fell into the river. The parents gasped while Wonka rolled his eyes, looking disgusted, and pained to see his chocolate dirtied in such a fashion.

"He'll drown!" Mrs. Gloop whined. "He can't swim!"

"No better time to learn," Gwyneth said. She watched Wonka as he looked away at something, then back at Augustus with this…almost devilish glint in his eye; it was disturbingly attractive. Gwyneth turned to where he had been glancing to see the pipe. She smirked as well. The pipe lowered into the river and began sucking chocolate up. It caused a small maelstrom around it, and Augustus was pulled towards it. He began to spin around.

"It's almost hypnotic," Gwyneth murmured, resulting in a half-smile from Wonka. They saw him get stuck in the middle of the tube. Gwyneth, with her keen eyesight, noticed the seams bursting a little. But pressure from all the chocolate beneath Augustus caused him to skyrocket up.

"There he goes," Violet said apathetically.

"Call the fire brigade!" Mrs. Gloop exclaimed.

"Why?" Gwyneth asked. "Do you see a fiery inferno of doom? I think not."

"It's a wonder how that pipe is big enough!" Violet's mom said.

"Again, that's what she said," Gwyneth said. Charlie looked at her questioningly. "No, Charlie, you're not old enough to know now." Charlie pouted and looked back at the pipe. His eyes went wide.

"It isn't big enough," he said worriedly. "He's slowing down."

"He's gonna stick," Mike observed. The slowing came to a stop.

"I think he has," Mike's dad said. Sure enough, Augustus was stuck near the top of the pipe.

"He's blocked the whole pipe," Veruca's dad said. Wonka just watched in wonderment. Charlie noticed something.

"Look! The Oompa-Loompas!" he said. They were all starting to bob their heads to a beat and work to the rhythm.

"What are they doing?" Veruca asked. Wonka smiled.

"Why, I believe they're going to treat us to a little song," he said happily. "It is quite a special occasion, of course. They haven't had a fresh audience in many a moon." Gwyneth watched, intrigued. All the Oompa-Loompas were running to make a perimeter around the room. They began to sing. As they did, Wonka bobbed his head to the tune. Gwyneth, after a while, found it catchy as well, and began to move a little to the music.

_Augustus Gloop, Augustus Gloop _

_The great big greedy Nincompoop _

_Augustus Gloop, so big and vile, _

_so greedy foul and infantile _

_Come on, we cry, the time is ripe _

_to send him shooting up the pipe _

_But don't, dear children be alarmed, _

_Augustus Gloop will not be harmed, _

_Augustus Gloop will not be harmed_

Some of them began to strap on yellow swimming caps.

"Ooh!" Gwyneth said excitedly, clapping her hands. "Synchronized swimming!" Sure enough, they dived into the pool one at a time, like all synchronized swimming groups do. They were quite good. Gwyneth didn't have a piece of paper, so she held up her fingers, giving them a perfect 10. Wonka gave them a 10 as well.

_Although of course we must admit, _

_he will be altered quite a bit _

_Slowly wheels go round and round, _

_and cogs begin to grind and pound _

_This greedy brute, this louse's ear,_

_is loved by people everywhere, _

_for who could hate or bear a grudge _

_against a luscious bit of fudge?_

As they sang, the seams of the pipe began to burst a little more from building pressure, and finally, Augustus went shooting up the pipe so the chocolate could flow free again. The Oompa-Loompas finished their song and ran off as the pipe rose into the air. Wonka and Gwyneth began to clap.

"Bravo! Well done!" Wonka exclaimed. "Aren't they delightful? Aren't they charming?"

"That was awesome!" Gwyneth agreed. "Do they have any CDs?"

"I do say, that all seemed rather rehearsed," Mr. Salt said drolly. Gwyneth glared at him.

"No one asked you, Sir Buzz McKillington," she snapped.

"Like they knew it was gonna happen," Mike agreed with Mr. Salt.

"Oh, poppycock," Wonka scoffed, walking away. Gwyneth snorted. She loved that word; it was funny, because it SOUNDED like a dirty word, but in fact, was not. Mrs. Gloop ran over to Wonka.

"Where is my son?" She asked, panicking. "Where does that pipe go?"

"THAT pipe..." Wonka indicated the pipe. "It just so happens to lead directly to the room where I make the most delicious kind of strawberry flavored chocolate coated fudge."

"Then he will be made into strawberry flavored chocolate coated fudge," Mrs. Gloop shrieked. "They'll be selling him by the pound all over the world!" Gwyneth rolled her eyes.

"Uh, no. I wouldn't allow it," Wonka insisted. "The taste would be terrible. Could you imagine Augustus flavored chocolate coated Gloop?" Gwyneth shuddered.

"Say that five times fast," Charlie whispered to her. She glanced at him.

"That five times fast," she whispered back. Charlie laughed quietly at that.

"Eww. No one would buy it," Wonka concluded. Mrs. Gloop looked offended.

"Oh, yes, you WOULD be offended that people wouldn't buy your son because they aren't cannibals," Gwyneth sighed.

**back to fleet street**

Sweeney Todd again stopped polishing momentarily, thinking of the fat man he had killed earlier. He had a sudden idea for a recipe...Augustus flavored chocolate covered Gloop...he would tell Mrs. Lovett later. Just then, the bell to his shop rang. He smiled, and turned to "help" the next customer.

**back to the factory!**

Wonka turned and made what sounded like a warrior cry.

"What is that, your Lucy Lawless mating call?" Gwyneth asked. Wonka looked at her.

"Who?" he asked, clueless. Gwyneth shook her head.

"Never mind," she mumbled as an Oompa-Loompa walked up to Wonka. Wonka bent down to tell the tiny person something.

"I want you to take Mrs. Gloop up to the Fudge Room, kay?" he said. "Help her find her son. Take a long stick, and just start poking around in the big chocolate mixing barrel." He gestured with his cane. "Kay?" The Oompa-Loompa crossed his arms, and Wonka did the same. Then Gwyneth did. Everyone looked at her.

"I felt left out," she said sheepishly. The Oompa-Loompa, after trying to hide a smirk, bowed to Wonka and approached Mrs. Gloop. He tugged on her skirt, and semi-dragged Mrs. Gloop off in the direction of the Fudge Room.

"Mr. Wonka," Charlie asked.

"Huh?" Wonka asked, turning to look at Charlie.

"Why would Augustus' name already be in the Oompa-Loompa song?" Charlie asked. "Unless they—" Wonka cut him off.

"Improvisation is a parlor trick, anyone can do it," Wonka explained. He turned to Gwyneth. "Say something…anything."

"Something…anything," Gwyneth said. Charlie giggled; several members of the group facepalmed. Wonka didn't bat an eye; he merely turned to Violet and asked her the same thing.

"Chewing gum," Violet said mid-chew.

"_Chewing gum is really gross, chewing gum I hate the most_," Wonka recited. "See? Exactly the same."

"No, it isn't," Mike snapped. Wonka glared at him.

"Uh, you really shouldn't mumble because I can't understand a word you're saying," Wonka warned.

"Yeah, none of us speak emo," Gwyneth added. Mike just gave them both "you're weird" looks.

"What's 'emo'?" Charlie asked Gwyneth.

"Again, you'll learn when you're older," Gwyneth said, "and before you ask me how old, I'd say maybe high school or college…ooh! That reminds me, I know a good emo kid joke!"

"What is it?" Wonka asked.

"How many emo kids does it take to screw in a light bulb?" she asked. No one answered. "Two: one to change the light bulb, and the other to write a song about how much they miss the old light bulb!" Wonka giggled.

"That's a good one!" he said. Gwyneth smiled.

"You're the only one with a sense of humor around here," Gwyneth sighed, exasperated.

"Well, excuse us if we don't understand your 'emo' concept," Mike said snottily.

"Oh, don't worry, kid," Gwyneth said, ruffling his hair. "You'll figure it all out in about five years or so." Mike just glared at her again.

"On with the tour!" Wonka said happily and led the group off somewhere. Gwyneth stayed behind with Charlie and Grandpa Joe.

"Are the Oompa Loompas really joking, Grandpa?" Charlie asked, worried.

"Of course, they're joking," Grandpa Joe reassured Charlie. "That boy will be fine!" As Charlie looked away, Gwyneth watched Grandpa Joe's face fall into a worried expression. Gwyneth touched his shoulder.

"He'll be all right," she said gently. "I don't think Mr. Wonka would intentionally try to harm anyone." Grandpa Joe nodded. Apparently, Wonka had heard the last exchange, because he looked at Gwyneth and smiled; she offered him a half-smile back as the group walked to their next destination.

**okay, that's all for now! and if the age difference between wonka and gwyneth is a little unsettling to you (20 years)…i don't really care. besides, there's no real ROMANCE right now. just the establishment of some common ground. they're the only ones in the group who get each other.**

**ALSO, there is a quote from "v for vendetta" hidden in her somewhere. if you find it, i will give you kudos. and the next chapter should be up within the next two days. i have a religion test on thursday, so things MIGHT slow down later in the week.**


	6. wonkaworld

**i'm back! a quick thing: i've edited all the chapters a little bit, mostly for grammar and spelling purposes. though there is a little more extra funness in the most recent chapter (i.e. another visit to fleet street). this is so much fun to write! it's honestly the fanfiction that i've had the most fun writing ever!**

**reminder: Gwyneth is wearing fingerless gloves, so the tips of her fingers can be seen, but not the rest of her hands. you'll see why.**

**chapter 5: Wonkaworld**

Wonka led the group to the bank of the river and looked to the left. A very large pink boat in the shape of a seahorse or something was floating towards them, being rowed by very many Oompa-Loompas. One of them was drumming so the rowers knew when to stroke.

"That is reminiscent of a glammed-up 'Ben-Hur,'" Gwyneth murmured. She tried to determine which one of the Oompa-Loompas looked the most like Charlton Heston. As she did, the boat came to a stop, and all the Oompa-Loompas began to giggle.

"What's so funny?" Violet asked.

"Your face," Gwyneth said. Violet glared at her. "Okay, my face. Sorry." Violet rolled her eyes.

"I think it's from all those doggone cocoa beans," Wonka said hastily. "Hey, by the way, did you guys know that chocolate releases a property which triggers the release of endorphins? Gives one the feeling of being in love."

"You don't say?" Violet's mom said in a manner she believed to be seductive. Wonka gave her an uneasy look.

"Okay, that's all kinds of creepy!" Gwyneth said happily, "but let's test this endorphin hypothesis!" She reached over to a tree growing chocolate bon-bons that was conveniently placed next to her and popped a bon-bon into her mouth. She chewed thoughtfully. "Mmm…raspberry-filled." Then she widened her eyes. She threw her arms around Charlie's neck. "Charles Cornelius Bucket, I've all of a sudden developed an insanely inexplicable love for you! Let us sail off and travel the world together, from the halls of Montezuma to the shores of Tripoli!" Charlie was laughing the whole time, mainly because Gwyneth was tickling him.

"My middle name's not Cornelius!" he said mid-tickle.

"I know, but it makes everyone's name sound awesome," Gwyneth sighed, letting him go. She looked up to see everyone looking at her.

"Is there ever a time where you DON'T joke around?" Mr. Salt said disparagingly. Gwyneth thought for a moment.

"Well, there's church," she mused, "but even then, I'm usually saying 'that's what she said' in my mind. It makes the time go faster." Mr. Salt shook his head. Gwyneth rolled her eyes. "I know, I know, I'm a horrible person, surely going to hell, blah blah blah, all aboard, Mr. Wonka?"

"Uh, yeah!" Wonka said cheerfully, as if to make everyone forget Gwyneth's moment of crazy. "All aboard!" Everyone piled in to the boat. Gwyneth helped Charlie and Grandpa Joe sit down safely before sitting next to Charlie. Wonka carefully stepped in and sat next to Gwyneth. "Onward!" The drummer Oompa-Loompa started the beat of the drum again. They began to float through the Chocolate Room. Gwyneth looked around; even after a good twenty minutes to half an hour in the Room, she couldn't really get over its beauty.

"Here," Wonka said, jolting her from her reverie. He dipped a conveniently-placed ladle into the chocolate river and reached over Gwyneth to hand it to Charlie. "Try some of this, it'll do you good. You look starved to death." Charlie sipped from the ladle. A smile grew on his face as he handed the ladle to Grandpa Joe.

"It's great!" he said to Wonka.

"That's because it's mixed by waterfall," Wonka informed. "The waterfall is most important. It mixes the chocolate. Makes it light and frothy."

"Déjà vu much?" Gwyneth whispered to Charlie.

"By the way, no other factory in the world mixes—" Wonka continued before getting cut off by Veruca.

"You already said that," she said smugly. Wonka looked a little upset and lowered the hand he was using to make a point.

"Rude much?" Gwyneth muttered loud enough for Veruca to hear. After receiving a glare, Gwyneth gave an offended look. "Well, I was brought up to say 'Excuse me' before sharing my opinion, not just cutting someone off at my whim." There was a moment of silence.

"You're all quite short, aren't you?" Wonka observed.

"Well, yeah," Violet said snottily. "We're children."

"I'm not!" Gwyneth said proudly. "But I'm still slightly shorter than he is." She pointed at Wonka.

"Yeah, being children is no excuse," Wonka scoffed. "I was never as short as you." He looked at Gwyneth to back him up.

"Well, I was, but then I ate my fruits and vegetables," she said. "I still take a vitamin every day."

"Well, hip-hip-hooray for you, weirdo," Mike mumbled. Gwyneth stuck her tongue out at him. Mike turned to Wonka. "You were probably as short as us once."

"Was not!" Wonka insisted. "Know why? Because I distinctly remember putting a hat on top of my head. Look at your short little arms. You could never reach." He ended looking triumphant. Gwyneth pointed to the side of Wonka.

"Look, a distraction!" she exclaimed. Wonka turned his head, and Gwyneth swiftly took his hot off. "Oh, my, what is this that just happened?" Wonka pouted at her.

"Hey!" Wonka whined, reaching for his hat, but Gwyneth was too quick for him.

"I do believe I have obtained your hat with my shorter, inferior arms," Gwyneth teased. "Silly me, however did that happen?" The hat-fight continued for a little while.

"Are you quite done flirting with Mr. Wonka?" Veruca asked, exasperated. Wonka and Gwyneth froze, looked at Veruca, and then looked at each other.

"Aren't you a little young to know what 'flirt' means?" Gwyneth asked Veruca. Veruca just looked smug, and Gwyneth turned back to Wonka. "And no offense, Mr. Wonka, but NO."

"Yeah, none taken." he agreed. "Now, can I have my hat back?" He reached for it again, but he was too slow.

"No, it looks better on Charlie." With that, she placed the hat on Charlie's head. "Quick, Charlie! Say something he would say!"

"Um…chocolate?" Charlie questioned. Gwyneth gasped.

"My God, they could be twins!" Gwyneth exclaimed. Wonka reached over Gwyneth and retrieved his hat, dusting it off and placing it on his head. He was trying not to look amused, but Gwyneth knew he was.

"Mr. Wonka, do you remember what it was like being a kid?" Charlie asked.

"Oh boy, do I!" Wonka said, drifting off, his face falling. "Do I?" Gwyneth waved a hand in front of his face.

"Okay, Charlie, I think he's drifted off into the dark land of Wonkaworld again," Gwyneth said sadly. "We've lost him for the moment." She gave Wonka one last worried look; he had obviously had issues with his childhood. She turned to Charlie with a smile. "So, Charlie, do you take vitamins?" Charlie shook his head. "Well, you should. Everyone should take vitamins. I've got some Flintstones vitamins at home that I never use anymore; I'll give them to you when the tour's done. They taste a little like candy except grainier and good for you."

"What kind of vitamins do you take?" Charlie asked.

"Prenatal vitamins," Gwyneth said casually. All the adults look at her astonished. "No, I'm not pregnant! I've never even had a boyfriend!" No change in their faces. "Yeah, yeah, don't look so surprised. I take prenatal vitamins because they do wonders for your nails!" She showed her fingernails to Violet's mom. "Look at those nails, aren't they healthy?"

"Oh, wow, you're right," Violet's mom admitted. "I should do that." She began to examine her own nails. "Your hair is also just wonderful! What color do you use, I might have to try it sometime."

"I don't color my hair, never have," Gwyneth said proudly. "Stylists hate me for it. This is all natural. Which is weird, because my mom has dark hair, and my dad apparently had blond hair…we're pretty sure I got it from my mom's mom…and you've stopped listening. What a surprise." Indeed, Violet's mom had gone back to examining her nails. She turned back to Charlie. "So, where do you think we're going next? Ooh, look at that tree! Did I forget to tell that my mom thinks you're a neat kid? And I like your sweater."

"No offense, Gwyneth," Charlie said, "but you seem to have the attention span of a small rodent." Gwyneth shook her head.

"I know," Gwyneth said bashfully. "I'm forever being accused of having A.D.D. I don't have A.D.D., I just…what the hell is that?" Gwyneth pointed in front of her; there was a dark, forboding tunnel.

"Wow, your A.D.D. or whatever seems to have SOME use," Charlie said, a little frightened. Gwyneth turned to Wonka and waved a hand in front of his face again, snapping.

"Hey, candyman!" she said. Nothing. "Dark, creepy tunnel of doom just ahead!" She poked him in the arm. Again, seemingly nothing. "I'll confiscate your hat again!" She reached up for said hat but was apprehended by Wonka's grip.

"Don't do that," he said faintly; he still wasn't quite out of Wonkaworld, because he wasn't looking at her, but MAN, did his grip hurt! "Full speed ahead!" The drumming Oompa-Loompa's beat sped up as they entered the tunnel.

"How can they see where they're going?" Violet asked, referring to the Oompa-Loompas.

"They can't," Wonka said. "There's no knowing where they're going."

"Do you have ANY idea how serial-killer that sounded?" Gwyneth asked him, shuddering. Wonka ignored her.

"Switch on the lights!" Wonka called. As the lights switched on, the boat suddenly took a dip down, causing Gwyneth's stomach to lurch. This didn't bode well; she had had some terrifying, scarring experiences with water rides at amusement parks, most of which resulted in her falling into the water.

"CHEESE AND RICE!" she screamed, reaching for someone's hand; she couldn't tell whose hand it was, as she was wearing gloves. The tunnel began to shine multi-colored lights, giving the whole experience a kind of trippiness to it. After a couple of bumps, the boat brought the group to a big open part of the tunnel with many doors.

"People," Wonka advised, "keep an eye out. We're passing some very important rooms here." Sure enough, they passed a few doors that said "clotted cream," "coffee cream, and "hair cream."

"What do you use hair cream for?" Violet's mom asked.

"To lock in moisture," Wonka said, primping his hair with a giggle. Violet's mom gave an uneasy smile and turned back around. Gwyneth looked to her other side to see an open room, where some Oompa-Loompas were whipping a cow, who let out a "Moo."

"Oh, man, PETA would hate that," Gwyneth chuckled. "But members of Congress would LOVE it." She heard Mike's dad chuckle a little at that; of course he would get it, he was American.

"Whipped cream!" Charlie deduced.

"Precisely!" Wonka giggled. Gwyneth smiled at Charlie.

"That doesn't make sense," Veruca said snottily.

"Well, neither do large bills unless you take them to a bank," Gwyneth snapped.

"For your information, little girl," Wonka explained, "whipped cream isn't whipped cream at all unless it's been whipped with whips. Everybody knows that."

"Just like poached eggs aren't really poached unless you've stolen them illegally from birds that are protected by the law," Gwyneth added.

"Exactly!" Wonka said. The boat rounded the corner to reveal…MORE CHOCOLATE RAPIDS!

"Oh, not again," Gwyneth moaned. Luckily, whoever's hand she had been holding hadn't let hers go, so she felt a little safer. But it was still horrifying. At one point, the boat went to the side, and then they were riding backwards.

"Am I dead yet?" she asked herself. They passed more doors, some of which said "jelly beans," "butter beans," and "has beans."

"Has beans?" Mike asked.

"You're one yourself," Wonka said with a giggle. Then the boat came to a slow as the rapids passed. Gwyneth let out the breath she had been holding. The ceiling above has bright light streaming in, which everyone looked at.

"Stop the boat!" Wonka exclaimed. "I want to show you guys something!" He sounded excited. Gwyneth saw a door that said "Inventing Room." Excitement bubbled through her.

"Gwyneth, did that boat ride really scare you?" Charlie asked, loud enough for only. Gwyneth looked at him and laughed.

"No, are you kidding?" she scoffed, laughing as if that was the most ridiculous suggestion ever, Then she dropped the laugh. "Why, did you hear anything?"

"Not really," Charlie said, amused, "but you haven't let go of Mr. Wonka's hand throughout the whole boat ride." Gwyneth felt her skin go three shades of pale as she quickly glanced over. Sure enough, black fabric was entwined with purple latex…and Wonka hadn't said anything! She glanced up at him, embarrassed, and quickly turned her attention back to Charlie.

"For you information," Wonka explained, "I took her hand just a few moments ago so I could help her out of the boat. I was always told to be a gentleman, after all." Wonka nodded, as if to confirm that that's all that was. Charlie nodded, not fully believing the story, but letting it slide. The boat came to a full stop, and sure enough, Wonka stood to help Gwyneth on to solid ground. As she walked past Wonka, she felt his hand squeeze hers; she looked back at him, and he winked. Gwyneth felt puzzled and decided to ask him about it.

"Oh my, I seem to have left something in the boat!" she said lamely.

"What?" Violet's mom asked. Gwyneth took her cell phone out of her pocket and threw it into the boat.

"My cell phone!" she said. "Silly me, it must have fallen out of my pocket." She quickly stepped back on to the boat, which was now empty, save for Wonka.

"Why didn't you say anything?" she whispered to him not looking at him, reaching down for her phone. "Or why didn't you just let go?"

"First of all, you have the grip of a full-grown Snozzwanger," Wonka whispered back. Gwyneth checked her cell phone for messages as he talked. "Second of all, you were clearly scared to death; I'm not about to tell everyone that a nineteen-year-old is scared of boat rides or take away a welcome distraction from something that scares someone. That's just mean." Gwyneth nodded, seeing that she had no messages from her mom or anyone, and flipped her phone shut.

"Well, thanks," Gwyneth said sarcastically. "That's very kind of you. And now you know a deep, dark, hidden secret of mine; lucky you. By the by, once you want to tell me why you always drift off into the dark land of Wonkaworld whenever someone so much as thinks the word 'parent,' we'll be even." She brushed by him and walked over to join Charlie, leaving Wonka behind.

**wonka's pov**

Wonka watched her walk by with wide eyes. She was certainly intuitive; how else would she have known that he hadn't had a happy childhood? Or did he wear his dislike for parents on his sleeve? He thought about this as he watched her talk with Charlie, making the boy laugh. He recalled that while he was off in "Wonkaworld," as she called it, that she had never had a boyfriend. He was surprised; she certainly knew how to make someone laugh, and she DID have very healthy fingernails. And her hair was a very pretty auburn color…what man in his right mind WOULDN'T want to be her paramour?

Wonka nearly slapped himself for the thought, but remembered that there were people present. He shouldn't think like that about someone he barely knew…and someone that was twenty years younger than him, no less! Then he should have just let go of her hand when she had grabbed on to it at the drop…but he hadn't. Why was that? The excuse had rolled off his tongue before he could think of what the real reason was…maybe there WASN'T a real reason (or at least a reason that was good enough for him). Maybe he just held her hand because…he felt like it. Yeah. That was it.

After he thought through all of this very quickly (just several seconds), he stepped off of the boat and led the group into the Inventing Room.

**that's it for now! next chapter will be up either tomorrow night or tuesday night. depends on how much homework i have. and OOH, wonka's starting to have conflicting feelings for dear Gwyneth! i tried to keep him as in character as i could; if he went a little out of character, i apologize. i'm not perfect, and i don't know how johnny depp's basis was for creating the character of willy wonka (or at least the basis for his adaptation of the character of willy wonka).**

**the has-beans bit comes from the book by roald dahl, and it's one of my favorite lines from the book. and i really DO take prenatal vitamins, and no, i'm not pregnant, and yes, my nails are gorgeous. so there. ^_^**


	7. why don't kids listen?

**WOW! two chapters in one day! how lucky are you? i'm writing because tomorrow night, i'm auditioning for a play, and then callbacks are the next night, so i might not get the next chapter out until then. and THEN i have a test on thursday, so…but please be patient! i will try to finish this story before i go on winter break, and i probably will at the rate i'm writing!**

**chapter 6: why don't kids listen?**

The group was led into a room with a LOT of mechanical things happening. There was steam and flasks bubbling over…to Gwyneth, it was all very reminiscent of chemistry class; all that was missing was things being set on fire…ON PURPOSE. There were lots of big machines that kind of looked like those models of molecules made out of wooden balls and dowel sticks. Except these machines were made out of metal and screws and were filled with candy ingredients. The whole thing looked like a really awesome Science Museum.

"This is a dream for every A.D.D. kid ever…and every science geek," Gwyneth murmured.

"Now, this is the most important room in the entire factory," Wonka announced over the humming of the machines. "Now, everyone enjoy yourselves, but just don't touch anything, kay?" And everyone scampered off to look at the very large machine in the middle. Gwyneth walked over leisurely and peeked in; it seemed to be a very large swimming pool. Oompa-Loompas were snorkeling to retrieve little multi-colored balls at the bottom on the pool. The balls were darting back and forth in the water. Gwyneth extended her pointer finger and started poking it.

"Touch…touch…touch…" she said as she touched the machine. Someone behind her cleared her throat; it was Wonka.

"What did I say about touching?" he warned. She turned the finger on him.

"Poke…poke…poke," she said, trying not to laugh. Wonka slapped her hand away. She pouted. "Fine; get one of your Oompa-Loompas to retrieve that cane that someone shoved up your a—"

"What is this?" Violet cut her off. Wonka went from glaring at Gwyneth to smiling at the distraction.

"Oh!" he said in a rather high-pitched tone, walking over to the pool. "Let me show you." One of the Oompa-Loompas emerged from the pool and handed a red ball to Wonka. "Thank you!" And back into the pool the little guy went. "These are Everlasting Gobstoppers."

"That is an awesome name," Gwyneth said.

"Thank you!" Wonka said, and went back to explaining their purpose. "These are for children who are given very little allowance money. You can suck on it all year, and it'll never get any smaller!"

"That's what she said," Gwyneth said under her breath, stifling laughter. "That was just too easy." If Wonka had heard her, he didn't acknowledge it. He just giggled and commented on the neatness of the candy.

"It's like gum!" Violet concluded.

"How is that like gum in any way, shape or form?" Gwyneth questioned.

"Gwyneth's right, it's not like gum," Wonka said. "Gum is for chewing. And if you tried chewing one of these Gobstoppers, you'd break all your little teeth off. But they sure do taste terrific."

"I think I've heard of those," Gwyneth said. "Aren't they called jawbreakers?" Wonka glared at her. "Let me guess: I'm MUMBLING." Wonka rolled his eyes and walked on to the next thing. The stand he was walking to had an open flame.

"Ooh! Do we get to set candy on fire?!" Gwyneth asked excitedly.

"Nope!" Wonka said happily, picking a square candy up. "This is Hair Toffee. You suck down one of these little boogers, and in exactly half an hour, a brand new crop of hair will start growing out all over the top of your little noggin! And a mustache, and a beard!"

"So, in other words, you've found the cure for baldness?" Gwyneth asked. "Rogaine won't be too pleased with that."

"Who wants a beard?" Mike asked.

"I've always been curious," Gwyneth said, stroking an imaginary goatee. "That way I could do this and not look stupid."

"Too late," Mike mumbled.

"Didn't I tell you to stop mumbling?" Wonka said. "Anyways, who wants beards? Well... beatniks for one. Folk singers and motor bike riders. You know. All those hip, jazzy, super cool, neat, keen and groovy cats. It's in the fridge, Daddy-o! Are you hip to the jive? Can you dig what I'm layin' down? I knew that you could-- slide me some skin, Soul Brother!" With that, Wonka stuck his hand out for a high five. Mike just stared at it. Gwyneth shrugged and returned it.

"You are SO white…but Ginsberg would be proud," she said gravely. Everyone stared at her. "'I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness?'" Everyone still stared. Gwyneth threw her hands up. "READ BOOKS, PEOPLE! GEEZ!"

"Anyways, unfortunately, the mixture isn't quite right yet," Wonka continued, "because an Oompa-Loompa tried some yesterday and, well, he…" He trailed off at the approach of an Oompa-Loompa that seemed to be wearing a ghost costume made out of hair instead of a white bedsheet.

"How are you today?" Wonka asked loudly. The Oompa-Loompa held two thumbs up. "You look great!"

"Yeah," Gwyneth agreed. "I think I've met your cousin. His name is Itt?" The Oompa-Loompa walked away yelling things at Gwyneth that she couldn't make out. Wonka gasped and held a hand over his mouth. "I take it what he was saying wasn't very nice?" Wonka shook his head, wide-eyed. "It's okay, I've been called such words before. I'm used to it. Now what's next?" Wonka, once he had regained his composure, led the group to a VERY large machine. Wonka's eyes were now wide with excitement.

"Watch this," he said eagerly, pulling a lever. Sirens started going off and lights started flashing.

"It calls the police?" Gwyneth asked. Wonka just giggled and ran back over to the group. Part of the machine extended, and Wonka ran over to it; the group followed suit. The machine began to flash many more colors and beep faster. Gwyneth looked at Charlie, who was smiling in anticipation. An arm popped out of the machine and extended even further.

"How suggestive," Gwyneth commented. As she spoke, a small, beige-colored strip of gum extruded from the arm with a toaster oven "ding!" Violet took the gum. "Well, THAT was anticlimactic." Wonka looked very pleased.

"You mean that's it?" Mike asked, disappointed.

"Do you even know what 'it' is?" Wonka shot back.

"It's gum," Violet said.

"Says the girl who chews gum for a living," Gwyneth said to herself.

"Yeah!" Wonka said. "It's a stick of the most amazing and sensational gum in the whole universe!"

"You're being a little hyperbolic, aren't you?" Gwyneth asked. Wonka shook his head. "Then please to explain…"

"This gum is a full three-course dinner all by itself!" Wonka exclaimed, ending with his standard giggle. They looked back and forth between Wonka and the gum, trying to figure it out.

"Why would anyone want that?" Mr. Salt asked. Gwyneth facepalmed.

"For kicks and giggles," she said sarcastically. "It's a practicality!" Wonka fumbled through his jacket pockets while she spoke and found some index cards.

"Yeah, what she said!" Wonka said, beginning to read from the notecards. "It will be the end of all kitchens and all cooking. Just a little strip of Wonka's Magic Chewing Gum and that is all you will…" He went to the next card. "…ever need at breakfast, lunch, and dinner! This piece of gum happens to be tomato soup, roast beef, and blueberry pie!"

"Oh, darn, I was hoping for clam chowder, fried chicken, and pumpkin pie," Gwyneth said, snapping her fingers.

"It sounds great!" Grandpa Joe said happily.

"It sounds weird," Veruca said snottily.

"It sounds like my kind of gum!" Violet decided, and proceeded to take the piece of gum she HAD been chewing and stick it behind her ear. Gwyneth winced.

"That CANNOT be sanitary," Gwyneth whispered.

"I'd rather you didn't," Wonka advised Violet. "There's still one or two things that are—" but Violet cut him off.

"I'm the World Record holder in chewing gum," Violet bragged. "I'm not afraid of anything." And with that, she began to chew the magic gum. Gwyneth rolled her eyes. Wonka gave a nervous look. As she chewed, Violet's eyes went wide.

"How is it, honey?" her mom said proudly.

"It's amazing!" Violet exclaimed. "Tomato soup, I can feel it running down my throat!"

"Yeah! Spit it out!" Wonka insisted. Violet just gave him a look.

"When did kids stop listening to their elders?" Gwyneth asked no one in particular.

"Young lady, I think you'd better—" Grandpa Joe began to say but Violet interrupted him.

"It's changing..." Violet said; everyone waited to see what it changed to. "Roast beef and baked potato. Crispy skin and butter!" Wonka still looked nervous.

"Wait for it…" Gwyneth whispered to Charlie. He furrowed his brow.

"For what?" he asked.

"Keep chewin', kiddo!" Violet's mom said proudly. "My little girl's gonna be the first person in the world to have a chewing gum meal!"

"Quite an accomplishment," Gwyneth said to Charlie. "All it involves is doing this." She began to make distorted chewing faces and sounds, making Charlie laugh.

"Yeah. I'm just a little concerned about the—" Violet beat Wonka to the…

"Blueberry pie and ice cream!" she said happily.

"That part," Wonka finished.

"What's happening to her nose?" Veruca asked. Everyone looked. Sure enough, the tip of Violet's nose was beginning to turn purple.

"This is 'it,' Charlie," Gwyneth said excitedly. Wonka looked worried.

"You're turning blue!" Mr. Salt said, surprised. Violet turned to her mom, looking confused.

"Your whole nose has gone purple!" Mommie dearest said.

"What do you mean?" Violet asked, touching her nose.

"It's not that complicated to figure out," Gwyneth scoffed.

"Violet, you're turning violet!" Mumsie exclaimed.

"But dear old Mum is happy to attempt to clear things up once again," Gwyneth muttered. Violet turned to Wonka, looking scared, as did her mom.

"What's happening?!" Mrs. Beauregarde asked.

"Well, I told you I hadn't quite got it right, 'cause it goes a little funny when it gets to the dessert," Wonka explained slowly and worriedly. Veruca was smirking at Violet's dismay. "It's the blueberry pie that does it. I'm terribly sorry!" Wonka made a few faces before ducking for cover by his machine. Violet held her hand up, watching in horror as her skin turned blue; her hair began to turn blue as well.

"And yet, she continues to chew," Gwyneth said, shaking her head. Everyone backed up, scared.

"Mother, what's happening to me?" Violet asked. What WAS indeed happening was that her bright blue tracksuit was now the same color as her skin (blueberry purple), and she was beginning to grow at an alarming rate. She looked behind her at her backside, which was growing at an even MORE alarming rate.

"I like big butts and I cannot lie!" Gwyneth began to rap. "You other brothers can't deny!"

"She's swelling up!" Grandpa Joe said in shock.

"Like a blueberry," Charlie added. Violet's face began to swell as if she had a bad case of the mumps. Wonka looked up from underneath his machine, made a worried face, and ducked again. Violet continued to grow…and grow…and grow. Violet's mom watched in horror as Wonka snuck up behind her.

"I've tried it on, like, _twenty_ Oompa-Loompas, and each one ended up as a blueberry," Wonka said, smiling. "It's just weird!"

"But I can't have a blueberry as a daughter!" Violet's mom insisted. "How is she supposed to compete?!"

"You could put her in a county fair!" Veruca suggested.

"That is the SMARTEST thing you've said all day, Veruca," Gwyneth said, surprised. Wonka giggled, and Violet's mom looked angry. "Or, Mrs. Violet's mom,what you could do is get a whole bunch of green paint, paint the continents on her, and have the world's biggest globe!" Gwyneth's suggestion was met with the same reactions. Then she froze. "Is it just me, or does anyone else hear a funky disco beat?" Sure enough, the Oompa-Loompas were preparing to sing another song. Even the machines were getting into the groove of things. Wonka was already beginning to dance, as was Gwyneth. The Oompa-Loompas were dancing up on the rafters, even.

_Listen close, listen hard _

_The tale of Violet Beauregarde _

_This gentle girl, she sees no wrong _

_Chewing, chewing, chewing, chewing, _

_chewing, chewing all day long _

_Chewing, chewing all day long _

_Chewing, chewing all day long _

_Chewing, chewing all day long_

Wonka was doing that wavy-arm thing. Gwyneth tapped him on the shoulder, and they joined one set of hands to make one long wavy chain of awesomeness. The Oompa-Loompas began to roll Violet, and some of the Oompa-Loompas up on the rafters were jumping on her as if she was a trampoline.

_She goes on chewing till at last _

_Her chewing muscles grow so fast _

_From her face her giant chin _

_Sticks out just like a violin _

_Chewing, chewing all day long _

_Chewing, chewing all day long _

_Chewing, chewing all day long _

_Oompa Loompa, Oompa Loompa, _

_Oompa Loompa, Oompa Loompa_

Violet's moans and screams could barely be heard over the song as she continued to be rolled hither and thither. At one point, the Oompa-Loompas flipped off of Violet. Wonka and Gwyneth looked at each other and gave two scores: 10.

_For years and years she chews away _

_Her jaws get stronger every day _

_And with one great tremendous chew _

_They bite the poor girl's tongue in two _

_And that is why we try so hard _

_To save Miss Violet Beauregarde _

_Chewing, chewing all day long _

_Chewing, chewing all day long _

_Chewing, chewing, chewing, chewing, _

_chewing, chewing all day long._

_Chewing, chewing all day long._

_Chewing, chewing all day long._

"Mr. Wonka!" Violet could be heard as the Oompa-Loompas rolled her away. Wonka continued to dance even as Violet's mom walked up to him. He gave her a nervous smile and began to address an awaiting Oompa-Loompa.

"I want you to roll Miss Beauregarde into the boat and take her along to the Juicing Room at once, kay?" he told the Oompa-Loompa, who crossed his arms.

"The Juicing Room?" Violet's mom said, worried. "What are they gonna do to her there?"

"Oh, they're gonna squeeze her. Like a little pimple," Wonka said, giggling. Gwyneth scrunched her nose up.

"Lovely analogy," she commented.

"We've gotta squeeze all that juice out of her immediately," Wonka explained. Violet's mom made a shocked face and pranced over to her daughter, who was stuck in the doorway.

"Mother, help me!" Violet shouted, muffled. "Please!" Violet's mom pushed her through the doorway and helped the Oompa-Loompas roll her away. Wonka turned to the dwindling group with a smile.

"Come on!" he said cheerfully. "Let's boogie!" Gwyneth looked at him.

"We just did…to the Oompa-Loompa song," Gwyneth pointed out. "Though I wouldn't mind doing it again."

"Uh, that's what she said," Wonka said casually. Gwyneth froze, looking at him. He just smirked at her.

"EXCELLENT!" she exclaimed. "I commend you, sir!"

"I'm sorry, but who is 'she,' and why does she keep saying things?" Charlie asked, fed up. Gwyneth bent down to his level.

"'That's what she said' jokes are kind of inside jokes that are complicated to explain and you honestly won't get them until you're older," Gwyneth said. "Just…trust me on this, okay?" Charlie nodded. She smiled and nudged his chin gently with her knuckles. "Now, chin up." Wonka led them down a path with a red wall acting as a barrier from the chocolate river; Gwyneth walked between him and Charlie.

"Without the boat, we'll have to move double-time just to keep on schedule," Wonka told them. "There's just FAR too much to see."

"Mr. Wonka," Charlie asked.

"Yeah?" Wonka returned.

"Why did you decide to let people in?" Charlie asked again.

"Well, so they can see the factory, of course!" Wonka said brightly.

"But why now?" Charlie continued. "And why only six?" Wonka searched for an answer, but Mike spoke up.

"What's the special prize and who gets it?" was the question.

"The best kind of prize is a _sur_-prize!" Wonka said, giggling at the end.

"Very true," Gwyneth said, examining her surroundings, looking through door windows and whatnot. Veruca pushed Mike out of the way to ask HER question.

"Will Violet always be a blueberry?" she asked.

"No. Maybe. I don't know," was Wonka's brilliant answer. "But that's what you get for chewing gum all day, it's just disgusting."

"Really?" Gwyneth asked. "Because I've chewed gum in the past and NEVER turned into any type of fruit."

"If you hate gum so much, why do you make it?" Mike asked, ever the smart-aleck.

"Once again, you really shouldn't mumble, because it's kinda starting to bum me out!" Wonka said sharply.

"Yeah, kid," Gwyneth agreed. "That's like asking you 'If you hate chocolate so much, why are you here?' Or asking me why I'm talking to you if you annoy the hell out of me."

"Do you ALWAYS have to back Mr. Wonka up?" Mike asked Gwyneth.

"I wouldn't have to if you didn't mumble so much," Gwyneth shot back.

"Do you remember the first candy you ever ate?" Charlie asked Wonka, changing the subject completely. Wonka came to a stop and got that funny look on his face again.

"No," he said dreamily.

"AND off he goes to Wonkaworld again," Gwyneth announced. "He'll be out of it for about three minutes." Gwyneth looked around and noticed something through one of the doors. "Hold the phone!" She walked over to get a better look. Inside was a BEAUTIFUL grand piano, lid up; it was very dark brown, almost black, with ivory keys. It was one of the nicer pianos she had seen in her time. She smiled and wondered if Wonka would let her in to play it a little. It HAD to sound as nice as it looked.

"I'm sorry, I was having a flashback," she heard Wonka say faintly.

"I see," Mr. Salt said, drawing Veruca close to him and away from crazy Wonka.

"These flashbacks happen often?" Mike's dad asked. Gwyneth watched, her hand brushing against the door handle.

"Increasingly," Wonka said, "today." CLUNK! All attention was on Gwyneth, who had accidentally turned the handle a little. She gave a nervous smile.

"Sorry," she said sheepishly. "I was just admiring the piano in that room; it's quite beautiful." Wonka smiled.

"Would you like to see it up close?" he asked. He walked towards the door; Gwyneth stepped out of the way as Wonka unlocked the door and opened it. Gwyneth walked quickly to the instrument.

**wonka's pov**

"This piano is of my own design," Wonka told Gwyneth as she looked at the golden strings and slid a hand across the lid and the keys. "The body of the piano is made out of the darkest chocolate known to man, and the keys are solid cocoa butter. The strings are indestructible spun sugar. It'll never melt and never go out of tune." Gwyneth played the first notes of Bach's Little Fugue.

"Beautiful tone," she remarked. "Do you play?"

"No, not a lot," he said. "The Oompa-Loompas love it, though." Gwyneth smiled, eyes still on the instrument.

"Gwyneth, would you play something?" Charlie asked. Gwyneth looked at Wonka, who nodded. She sat on the accompanying bench, hands over keys, hesitating.

"Anything in particular?" Gwyneth asked the group.

"I say, do you know any Rachmaninoff?" Mr. Salt asked. Gwyneth scrunched her nose and shook her head.

"Not a fan," she said. "I'm more into Bach, Handel, and Beethoven." Wonka giggled; she was adorable when she scrunched her face up like that. Mr. Salt's face dropped.

"Do you know anything that's not boring classical music?" Mike asked sullenly. Gwyneth glared at him.

"Classical music is not boring, by the by," Gwyneth told him, "but yes, I know something." She poised her fingers above the keys and began a familiar bass line. And the jazzy melodies of Vince Guaraldi's "Linus and Lucy" filled the room. Charlie and Grandpa Joe broke out into smiles, and even Veruca and Mike looked like they were fighting pleased looks. It was a fun song, who wouldn't be happy listening to that?

Wonka watched Gwyneth play. She really got into the song; she was smiling and moving to the beat; he bet she would have been full-out dancing had she not been the one producing the music. All of a sudden, she hit a wrong note, making a small yelp. She reached into her pocket for her cell phone, which was buzzing. She looked at the caller ID.

"Sorry, I need to take this," she said quickly and rushed out of the room to answer the phone. The group looked at each other.

"Daddy, I want a chocolate piano," Veruca said adoringly.

"Of course you do, dear," her dad mumbled.

"Well, as soon as Gwyneth's off the phone, we'll get a move on," Wonka said. "I'll go check on her." He walked outside and hid behind the wall to hear what she was saying.

"Are you sure you don't want me to come over there?" Gwyneth was saying. "I'm sure Mr. Wonka would let me go…okay…are you sure you're fine?...okay, Mom…yes, I told him you said hi, and he says hi back…okay, I want you to call me if you go home before the tour's over…yes, I'll call you when I'm headed home…just let me know what's up…I love you, too, Mom…okay, bye." As she was on the phone, Wonka noticed a glint of something different in her eyes. Normally, her eyes were full of life and mischief because she was always making jokes; she was almost like a kid. But here, she seemed more appropriate for her age. As she hung up, he approached her.

"You get GREAT reception here," Gwyneth said, the old her emerging once more. Wonka giggled.

"Who was that you were talking to?" he asked as if he hadn't heard anything.

"Just my mom," she said as casually as she could. "She wasn't feeling well this morning, and she just called to tell me she was going to urgent care to get checked out." Wonka frowned. "It's probably nothing; she's had some heart problems and it makes her more susceptible to illness. She'll be fine." Wonka nodded, not entirely believing her. She looked up at him, face falling; now she looked angry. "Don't look at me like that!"

"Are you okay?" he asked before he could stop himself. Her face softened at this.

"I'm fine," she said softly before walking back into the room to join the group. Wonka stood there, puzzled. Why did he care? Parents were nothing but trouble; why should he be worried about her mom? He wasn't, he concluded. He was just worried about her, that she was all right. But why worry about her? The group walked up to him before he could answer that question for himself. HE put on a smile, turned to the group, and led them to the next destination.

…**that took longer to write than i thought it was going to. now i'm gonna be up REALLY late doing my german homework…worth it! i should have the next chapter up within the next two days. i'll work on it when i'm not doing the homework i desperately need to do. days are crazy, sometimes…so please be patient no matter what!**


	8. linda blair?

**hello! i'm typing this monday before i go to my audition! i would've started typing earlier, but my AWESOME uncle mailed me a copy of the shooting screenplay for "milk," and i had to read it while i had time. i can't wait for that movie! anyways, i'll try to get this chapter done tonight and start the next chapter tomorrow; i already did my german homework, and i don't have much else, so…here we go!**

**chapter 7: linda blair?**

As Wonka led the group down the hallway, Gwyneth pondered the strange happenings in regards to the chocolatier. First, he had held her hand, even though he seemed to hate being touched, and when he could've let go at any time, he didn't. And now, he was asking about her well-being?! WHAT WAS UP WITH HIM?! Yes, her mom had gone to the hospital, but that had happened a lot during her lifetime; it really was more of a normality than anything. It really wasn't any of Wonka's business.

She nearly froze when she thought of something…what if the candyman had a CRUSH on her? Is that why he was acting so weird around her? She shook her head; that was ridiculous. He had only known her for a few hours, tops. She decided to leave the matter be; after all, with a man who traveled to Wonkaworld for deep, dark memory time, the likelihood of deciphering any rhyme or reason as to what he did was grim.

Gwyneth was so caught up in these thoughts that she ran into Charlie. The crowd had come to a stop. They were in front of a large white door that said "Nut Sorting Room."

"Ah!" Mr. Salt said happily. "This IS a room I know all about. You see, Mr. Wonka, I myself am in the nut business." He pulled a business card out from his jacket pocket and handed it to Wonka, who was just starting lazily ahead. Without batting an eye, Wonka took the card and tossed it behind him carelessly. Gwyneth rolled her eyes and smirked. Mr. Salt hadn't noticed the card toss and continued speaking. "Are you using the Havermax 4000 to do your sorting?" Wonka finally acknowledged Mr. Salt.

"No," Wonka said, giggling. "You're really weird!"

"He is?" Gwyneth asked. She stuck her hand out to Mr. Salt. "Hello, Mr. Weird! May I call you Really?" Mr. Salt glared at her. Wonka giggled once again and opened the door. Gwyneth immediately heard lots of chittering and chattering and hollow sounds reminiscent of ping-pong balls. The group was now standing on a balcony that overlooked about eighty squirrels surrounding a large, blue-and-white swirled floor with a hole in the middle. Veruca looked at them in wonder. Gwyneth suspected that she was already scheming on how to obtain one of those squirrels.

"Squirrels!" Veruca said happily.

"No, really?" Gwyneth said in sarcastic surprise.

"Yeah!" Wonka repeated. "Squirrels! These squirrels are specially trained to get the nuts out of shells." Gwyneth watched as the squirrels would nibble around the seam of the shell and open it to get to the nut.

"The nutcracker industry must hate you," she said. "So would Tschaikovsky if he found out about this. Then he'd have to write a beloved Christmas ballet called 'The Squirrel That was Specially Trained to get the Nuts out of Shells.' And that just doesn't have the same ring to it as 'The Nutcracker.'"

"Well, the nutcracker industry also has the seafood industry going for it," Wonka said, referring to those metal nutcrackers one receives when one orders crab or lobster for dinner.

"True," Gwyneth agreed. She then watched as walnuts fell from a hole in the ceiling to a large bin that would then distribute the nuts to smaller bins that each squirrel had.

"Why use squirrels?" Mr. Salt inquired. "Why not use Oompa-Loompas?"

"Because only squirrels can get the whole walnut out almost every single time," Wonka explained. Mr. Salt raised his eyebrows in faux agreement. "You see how they tap them with their knuckles to make sure it's not bad?" Gwyneth observed a squirrel doing this.

"Looks more like he's banging it against his little table in frustration," she opinionized. Wonka looked at her, and she pointed at said squirrel, who was now holding the nut up to his tiny ear.

"Oh, look!" Wonka told the rest of the group. "I think that one's got a bad nut." Right on cure, the squirrel tossed the nut behind him and it went rolling into the hole in the ground.

"Daddy, I want a squirrel," Veruca demanded. Gwyneth rolled her eyes.

"Why am I not surprised?" she groaned.

"Get me one of those squirrels, I want one!" Veruca demanded further.

"Veruca dear, you have many marvelous pets," Mr. Salt countered. Wonka watched the scene play out.

"All I've got at home is one pony and two dogs and four cats and six bunny rabbits and two parakeets and three canaries and a green parrot and a turtle, and a silly old hamster!" Veruca listed. "I WANT a SQUIRREL!" Gwyneth stared at her, mouth agape.

"That's ALL you've got at home?" she said in shock. "How have none of your pets died yet?" And by "died," Gwyneth was thinking "thrown themselves off a small ledge to end it all."

"All right, pet," Mr. Salt caved in. "Daddy will get you a squirrel just as soon as he possibly can." Wonka and Gwyneth both made shocked faces. This guy folded more easily than a wet napkin.

"But I don't want any old squirrel!" Veruca continued. "I want a trained squirrel!"

"OF course you do," Gwyneth muttered.

"Very well," Mr. Salt sighed in a tone that suggested that he'd rather have Foamy the Squirrel stabbing him in the eye with a really hot french fry. Nonetheless, he turned to Wonka. "Mr. Wonka, how much do you want for one of those squirrels. Name your price." Veruca turned to the chocolatier and gave her "angelic" smile.

"She's like a female Damien," Gwyneth whispered to Charlie. Grandpa Joe was the only one to get the reference.

"Oh, they're not for sale," Wonka said with a smile. "She can't have one." Veruca's smile went from "angelic" to forced until it dropped all together. Gwyneth was afraid her head was going to start spinning around any second now. Veruca, teeth clenched in frustration of being told that she couldn't actually get something she wanted, whirled her head back over to dearest old Daddykins.

"Daddy!" she said angrily.

"Shouldn't her voice have dropped about eight octaves and taken on a smoker's graveliness?" Gwyneth asked Wonka, who didn't bat an eye. INSTEAD, what he did was this.

"I'm sorry, darling. Mr. Wonka's being unreasonable." It wasn't Mr. Salt who said this; it was Wonka sounding just LIKE Mr. Salt. And the facial expressions were to die for.

"You are my new hero," Gwyneth said quite seriously to Wonka. Veruca, however, was less than amused.

"If you won't get me a squirrel, I'll get one myself!" she threatened to her dad. Actually, it wasn't so much a threat, as she slid under the bars and began to walk down the staircase towards the squirrels. Gwyneth facepalmed.

"Veruca," Mr. Salt said in a tone that was less-than-forceful.

"LIttle girl?" Wonka added, trying to get her attention.

"Linda Blair?" Gwyneth chimed in. Veruca didn't listen. She kept walking around, looking for a squirrel that tickled her fancy.

"Veruca, come back here at once!" Mr. Salt said rather unauthoritatively. Veruca's squirrel-gazing came to a halt, and a really scary smirk adorned her face. "Veruca!" The squirrels began to turn around with inquisitive chirps as they felt the dark, cold presence of Veruca approaching them. As she continued to walk, the other squirrels ceased their work as well.

"Little girl?" Wonka called again, raising a finger. "Don't touch that squirrel's nuts! It'll make him crazy!" Gwyneth froze, and turned slowly to Wonka.

"I'm not even gonna bother with that one," Gwyneth muttered. Wonka just gave her a knowing look. She rolled her eyes and sighed. "FINE. I'd think that touching anyone's nuts would drive them crazy, you happy now?" Wonka nodded his head with a smile, which he quickly dropped to assess the matter at hand. Veruca was nearing the squirrel of her dreams as all the other squirrels watched with attentive, beady, shiny doll's eyes. Veruca stared down her squirrel dreamboat for a few seconds.

"Oops!" Gwyneth commented. "Veruca blinked; point one to the squirrel!"

"I'll have you," Veruca said scarily as she smiled and reached for the squirrel. The smart little squirrel, sensing impending doom, jumped out of reach, and all the squirrels began to scamper over to Veruca, ticking MORE than just her fancy.

"Veruca!" Mr. Salt said, surprised. He shook the gate that blocked out the stairs and looked at Wonka, who realized something and revealed a large key ring with many many keys on it. Gwyneth, however, was watching with delight as the squirrels began to pounce on Veruca and crawl all over her. MAN, was her whine annoying! Mr. Salt called his daughter's name again.

"I so wish I had popcorn right now," Gwyneth said, smiling. Veruca, so overcome by the squirrels, fell to the ground.

"Veruca!" Mr. Salt said again, shaking the gate once again. Now the squirrels were having an easier time of walking all over Veruca.

"Let's find the key," Wonka was saying to himself as he searched through the key ring. He tried inserting one key into the keyhole. "Nope, not that one!"

"Daddy!" Veruca called to her father.

"Veruca!" Mr. Salt called back.

"ELAINE!" Gwyneth screamed. "ATTICA, ATTICA!" Meanwhile, Wonka tried another key.

"Nope, it's not that one!" he said, smile immediately dropping. The squirrels were now pinning Veruca's arms down to the ground, stretched out.

"Oh my lord, they're gonna crucify her," Gwyneth exclaimed. And then the squirrels pinned Veruca's legs down, stretched out. "Or they're gonna make her the next Jacques Sauniere! So dark the con of man…" And Wonka found the key!

"There it is!" he said happily. He tried the key. FAIL. "There it isn't." All the squirrels were now holding Veruca tightly in place.

"Daddy, I want them to stop!" Veruca whined.

"Want, want, want," Gwyneth muttered. "This kid wants all that and a bag of chips." One squirrel walked up to face Veruca head-on. She stared cross-eyed at it. "And Veruca blinked again; Squirrel is two-for-two!" It placed its front two paws on her forehead and sniffed her, then rapped on her forehead a few times with its knuckles. Then it listened. It looked surprised.

"I bet it hears an echo," Gwyneth said gleefully.

"What are they doing?" Charlie asked.

"They're testing to see if she's a bad nut," Wonka explained.

"I don't think anyone needs a test for that," Gwyneth muttered, "except for maybe men who might have testicular cancer." The squirrel made a confirming squeak.

"Oh my goodness," Wonka said, not that surprised. "She IS a bad nut after all." All the squirrels lifted her up and carried her over to the hole in the floor.

"Where are they taking her?" Mr. Salt asked.

"Where all the other bad nuts go," Wonka explained. "To the garbage chute." Gwyneth watched as she heard Veruca whimpering.

"Where does the chute go?!" Mr. Salt asked, terrified.

"To the incinerator," Wonka said casually. Then he noticed everyone's shocked looks. "But don't worry, we only light it on Tuesdays."

"Today IS Tuesday," Mike said.

"You haven't spoken in a very long time," Gwyneth said to Mike. "I miss the you-not-talking; can we continue the you-not-talking?"

"Well, there's always the chance they decided not to light the incinerator today," Wonka said optimistically, but his face read otherwise. Veruca gave one final scream as the squirrels dropped her and she slid down the chute. Mr. Salt gave a little worried scream himself. All the squirrels scampered back to their stations to continue working.

"Now, she may be stuck in the chute just below the top," Wonka said calmly to Mr. Salt. "If that's the case, all you have to do is just reach in and pull her out! Kay?"

"That's what sh—" Gwyneth began, but then stopped. "Wait, no, that doesn't work as well." Wonka turned the key and opened the gate, moving aside so Mr. Salt could get through. Mr. Salt walked down the stairs carefully, and Wonka closed the gate behind him.

"How many keys do you have there?" Gwyneth asked, "and do you have any skeleton keys? If so, do you make a regular habit of breaking into places you shouldn't?" Her question was never answered, because she heard a lovely, lilting hippie song that the Oompa-Loompas began to sing. Mr. Salt paused on the stair as the Oompa-Loompas walked out in yellow jumpsuits and formed a circle around the garbage chute. Wonka was bobbing his head again, and Gwyneth began to sway back and forth, two fingers held up in a peace sign. The Oompa-Loompas were skipping merrily around the chute.

_Veruca Salt, the little brute _

_Has just gone down the garbage chute _

_And she will meet as she descends _

_A rather different set of friends _

_A rather different set of friends _

_A rather different set of friends _

_A fish head, for example, cut _

_This morning from a halibut _

_An oyster from an oyster stew _

_A steak that no one else would chew _

_And lots of other things as well _

_Each with its rather horrid smell, horrid smell_

As the Oompa-Loompas mentioned the foods, they threw the oversized remains of said food down the chute.

_These are Veruca's newfound friends _

_That she will meet as she descends _

_These are Veruca's newfound friends_

Mr. Salt made his way to the floor carefully, and the Oompa-Loompas seemed to acknowledge him by turning and dancing in his direction. He ignored them as best he could and walked towards the chute. Four of the Oompa-Loompas circled and skipped around him.

_Who went and spoiled her, who indeed? _

_Who pandered to her every need? _

_Who turned her into such a brat? _

_Who are the culprits, who did that? _

_The guilty ones - now this is sad _

_Are dear old mum and loving dad_

An Oompa-Loompa was asking a squirrel all these questions as Mr. Salt bent over the chute. At the mention of "mum," an Oompa-Loompa tossed a portrait of Veruca's mom into the chute, and at "loving dad," a squirrel jumped up, and pushed Mr. Salt's derriere, causing him to fall into the chute. Wonka fought back giggles while Gwyneth didn't at all; she just giggled aloud. An Oompa-Loompa tugged on Wonka's jacket, and he bent down to listen to what it had to say.

"Oh, really?" Wonka said happily. "Oh, good! I've just been informed that the incinerator's broken, so there should be about three weeks of rotten garbage to break their fall!"

"I knew all that greed would return to masticate them in the gluteals," Gwyneth said smugly, "or at least kick them in the gluteals, in Daddykin's case."

"Well, that's good news," Mike's dad said sarcastically. Gwyneth was shocked; she had no idea that man was CAPABLE of sarcasm.

"Yeah," Wonka said seriously. "Well, let's keep on truckin'!" He led them out of that room.

"Hey, Mr. Wonka, guess what?" Gwyneth said excitedly. Wonka turned to her. And with that, she did the best GIR impression ever.

"I saw a SQUIRREL!" she said crazily. "It was going like this!" And the made clicking teeth sounds at a rapid pace. Charlie and Wonka laughed at her craziness.

"What was that?" Mike asked.

"That was from one of the last good shows in Nickelodeon," Gwyneth informed. "Now it's all Spongebob and Dora and…ugh, Nickelodeon in the 90's was SO much cooler!"

"What's a Spongebob?" Charlie asked. Gwyneth shook her head.

"Nothing you need to be aware of, dear," she said gently. "Grandpa Joe, I forbid you from letting him watch that." Grandpa Joe nodded, not aware of what a Spongebob was…nor WANTING to be aware of such a thing.

"Hey, Gwyneth," Wonka whispered to her. She leaned in.

"What?" she whispered back.

"Why was there BACON ON THE SOAP?" Wonka bellowed.

"I MADE IT MYSELF!" Gwyneth replied. "I can't believe you know 'Invader Zim!' That up your coolness factor by about fifty billion!"

"You guys are weird," Mike scoffed. "You're, like, perfect for each other." The awkward silence was so thick ne could cut it with a knife.

"Why does everyone think we're a match made in heaven?" Gwyneth asked Wonka.

"No idea," Wonka said with a nervous smile, then quickly looked away from her and walked ahead of everyone by some distance…

Okay, that was weird. Why did he get so nervous at the idea of him and Gwyneth together? DID he have a crush on her and she just didn't know it? She hadn't even entertained the idea of coupleness! No guy had EVER had a crush on her! She chewed on her lip watching Wonka lead them through the factory. He did have a great sense of humor…and he was a snappy dresser. That giggle of his was just adorable. And for thirty-nine, he didn't look that old; in fact, she thought he was even kind of handsome in his quirky way.

But that was the thing; he was THIRTY-NINE. Twenty years older than her. What would someone that old see in someone her age? She wasn't a blonde bimbo with an I.Q. lower than her bra size. So why all the weirdness? She smiled a little. Maybe he DID like her. Somebody maybe liked her. That was a little exciting.

"Gwyneth, what are you smiling about?" Charlie asked. Gwyneth turned to look at him.

"Oh, nothing," she said nonchalantly. "Just thinking about my favorite thing in existence: the henway." Charlie looked puzzled.

"What's a henway?" he asked.

"About four pounds," she shot back. Three…two…one…Charlie laughed a little at that.

"I haven't seen Charlie laugh so much in one day," Grandpa Joe said to Gwyneth. "It's as if you're the big sister he never had."

"Well, he's a great kid," Gwyneth said warmly. "Anyone would be lucky to have him for a sibling." In fact, she wished a little that she WAS Charlie's sister. "Well, maybe I can be crazy Aunt Gwyneth who pops in unexpectedly and brings all sorts of strange, inappropriate gifts for all!" She was interrupted by a "DING!"

"I don't know why I didn't think of this earlier!" Wonka said. "The elevator's by far the most efficient way to get around the factory." Everyone stepped into the elevator. It was made out of glass and had hundreds of buttons on the walls."

"There can't be this many floors!" Mike said snottily. Wonka gave him a look.

"How do YOU know, Mr. Smarty-Pants?" Wonka shot back. "And this isn't just an ordinary up-and-down elevator, by the way. This elevator can go sideways, longways, slantways and any other ways you can think of! You just press any button and WHOOSH! You're off!" With that, he pressed a button, and as he giggled, the elevator lurched to the side. Gwyneth crashed into one of the walls, falling to the ground. The elevator dropped a little, and then it went to the side again, slamming Gwyneth into another wall. This time, she hit her head.

"Mr. Wonka, I'm holding you responsible for any and all bruises obtained by this contraption," she threatened.

"Oh, here, let me help you," Wonka said politely, holding his hand out. She took it and stood up…and BOY, was she standing closer to him than she would have liked to have been. He let go of her hand to point at something. "Oh, look, look!" Through all the fog and snow, the group saw a large craggy cliff. "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Fudge Mountain!" Gwyneth could see Oompa-Loompas in little red outfits climbing the mountain. They all waved at them group, and she waved back.

"Make a documentary about your expedition!" she said to them softly, because she was well-aware that they wouldn't be able to hear her. The elevator glided through a hallway and into a room where Oompa-Loompas were shearing pink sheep.

"Oh!" Wonka said, enthused. Then his face dropped a little, as if he were embarrassed. " I'd rather not talk about this one." After one more nervous smile, everyone stopped staring at him.

"Let me guess," Gwyneth said sarcastically. "You have a penchant for fuzzy, hot pink sweaters?" Before he could answer, they were moving over what looked like a hospital: white walls, little beds, the whole shebang.

"This is the Puppet Hospital and Burn Center," Wonka informed. Oompa-Loompas with white jumpsuits bearing the standard Red Cross were wheeling in the charred remains of puppets that were reaching towards the heavens. "It's relatively new."

"I wouldn't have guessed from the liquefying of those poor toys in the show at the beginning of the tour," Gwyneth mumbled. Wonka looked at her quickly, and she just winked with a half-smile. Suddenly, the elevator jolted again, and surprise of surprises, Gwyneth hit another wall. Then the machine started moving down…and spinning.

"Ah, the administration offices!" Wonka observed. Gwyneth just shut her eyes so she didn't have to watch everything spin. It suddenly stopped in front of one of the cubicles. Wonka waved at the female Oompa-Loompa working inside. "Hello, Doris!" Doris waved back. Then the machine jolted the group backward, and Gwyneth jolted right into the arms of Wonka, her back VERY MAKING CONTACT with his torso. His hands immediately went to her shoulders to steady her, and he wrapped one arm gently around her waist.

"Well, you're a lot nicer to run into than the wall, I'll give you that," Gwyneth said under her breath. Then she noticed something. "Mr. Wonka, why aren't you letting go?"

"Well, you keep hitting the walls, and that sure looks painful," Wonka explained, "so I'm just gonna help keep you from getting hurt any further." With that, he turned them around so she could see where they were going next. Gwyneth's eyes widened.

"Um, why do those signs say 'Danger' and 'Keep Out?'" she asked, curiously frightened. She couldn't see his face, but she was pretty sure he was giving her that secretive smile he always had. Machine gun –like things began to charge up and shoot things around. Gwyneth had to admit that as the elevator jolted once more and catapulted them down, Wonka keeping her steady helped. He had ridden this elevator many times, so it didn't faze him in the slightest. She let out a gasp as candy fireworks began to explode all around them. It was beautiful…in that Vietnam-War-movie kind of way. The Oompa-Loompas manning the machine guns were shooting candy at different targets, resulting in many colorful explosions. One gun was pointed right at the elevator.

"Oh, crap!" she said to herself and closed her eyes so she didn't have to watch everyone die. She felt the arm Wonka had around her waist shift to take one of her hands. She heard an abnormally loud explosion and flinched; the hand squeezed her hand reassuringly.

"It's okay," Wonka whispered to her so only she could hear. "You're perfectly safe." She opened her eyes to see that she wasn't in itty-bitty pieces.

"Sorry," she said nervously. "Just thought we were all gonna die for a minute." But she believed him. That she was perfectly safe. Being this close to him felt really wrong…and really safe. It took some getting used to, but she was starting to think that maybe the idea of a him-and-her wasn't entirely out of the question if he wasn't letting her go.

"Why is everything here completely pointless?" Mike asked.

"Candy doesn't have to have a point," Charlie said. "That why it's candy." Gwyneth smiled and ruffled his hair.

"You're wise beyond your years, Charlie," she said affectionately.

"It's stupid!" Mike exclaimed. "Candy is a waste of time!" Gwyneth felt Wonka flinch; he had probably drifted off into Wonkaworld again. She frowned, still ruffling Charlie's hair.

"You're a waste of time!" She shot back to Mike, and the hand she had used to ruffle Charlie's hair cuffed Mike in the back of the head gently.

"What does that mean?" Mike asked.

"Nothing," Gwyneth teased. "It's pointless, just like candy and reality TV." Mike rolled his eyes and looked elsewhere. Gwyneth turned away from the group, too. Wonka was still in Wonkaworld, because he was frozen in place. She tried something…she took the hand that was clutching her waist and wove her fingers with his, squeezing his hand. Maybe that would snap him back to reality. She felt him jump a little in surprise, and she let go of her hand and discreetly removed his arm from her waist.

"Ooh, pretty colors," she exclaimed, walking to the other side of the elevator. She admired more of the fireworks, aware that Wonka was staring at her. She smirked to herself. He'd been making her feel puzzled all day; it was time for some good old-fashioned payback.

"I wanna pick a room!" Mike whined. A pause.

"Go ahead," Wonka said, a little dazed. She looked over at Mike, who pressed a button that said "Television Room."

"No!" Gwyneth whined. "Let's go to the 'Spewed Dumplings' room!" Just then the elevator stopped again and lurched to the side. And Gwyneth reintroduced herself to the wall. She collapsed on the ground.

"Gwyneth, are you okay?" Charlie asked.

"I figure if I stay on the floor, it won't be as painful," Gwyneth joked weakly. The elevator lurched to an unpleasant stop, resulting in one more slam of the head into the elevator wall, this slam harder than usual. "Okay, I was wrong."

"Are you sure you're okay, dear?" Grandpa Joe asked.

"Asides from my stomach being lodged in my throat, I'll be fine," Gwyneth said, standing up slowly, leaning against the door. "Just give me a moment for everything to stop spinning." She closed her eyes, breathing deeply.

"Uh, ready to go yet?" Wonka asked her. She opened her eyes to see…

"Oh no, there are two of you," she moaned. She slid to the floor. "That last jolt might have given me a concussion." She rested her head on her arms, which were resting on her knees. Wonka crouched down next to her.

"Let's take a look here," he said. "Lift your head up." She did so, and he began to check it for bleeding or bruises or knots. This involved him moving her hair around to examine the entirety of her head.

"Hey, Gwyneth, how many fingers do you see?" Mike asked. Gwyneth looked up at him, a blank look on her face as Wonka jerked her head to the side. Mike changed the number he was holding up a few times.

"Three, seven, two, and four, respectively," she said. "How many fingers do YOU see?" She held up one finger, which resulted in Grandpa Joe and Mike's dad covering the eyes of the children. She smirked. Wonka moved her head back to its upright position.

"Well, your noggin looks fine!" he reported, standing upright. "Shall we get a move on?" Gwyneth stood up carefully. As soon as she found she could stand without swaying and saw just one of everything, she followed the group as the elevator door opened.

**yeah, that took a while. it could've been TWO chapters, but i was like "NAH." there was a little wonka-and-gwyneth cuteness in here. i'm trying to keep it as realistic as possible. just a warning: the story will get a little less funny in later chapters. and that's all i have to say about that. oh, i'm not running out of jokes, don't worry (i actually watch the scenes of the movie on my laptop while i type so i get all of the dialogue right, and most of the jokes progress from there).**

**audition went well; callbacks are tomorrow night, and i don't know yet if i've been called back. the play's "the Heidi chronicles," by the by. wendy Wasserstein was a GREAT playwright.**


	9. TWSS

**sorry for the slight wait, guys; it's been a busy couple of days. i got called back last night, which went from 7 to 10, and i had to stay a little later to read a few more things. worth it, though; i made the play! i'm playing a few different characters; i am SO excited!**

**i've been asked about "that's what she said" jokes; i do NOT own them, and i didn't create them. the trick is you say "that's what she said" after something that sounds suggestive. (i.e. "it's bigger than i thought it would be" when one is talking about a dinner entrée). as a college student, i love these jokes, and i have a friend that says this constantly.**

**and after this chapter, the next chapter probably won't come until friday, because i have a religion test tomorrow and a german test on friday.**

**chapter 8: TWSS**

The door to the Television Room opened. Everything was white…blindingly so. Gwyneth squinted.

"What is this, that light at the end of the tunnel people are always telling you to avoid?" she muttered.

"Here," Wonka said, walking briskly over to some sunglasses-looking things. "Put these on quick and don't take them off whatever you do." Gwyneth reached for a pair and put them on as Wonka continued talking. "This light could burn the eyeballs right out of your skulls, and we certainly don't want that, now do we?"

"I saw that happen to some puppets earlier today," Gwyneth said helpfully. She adjusted the glasses a little and bent down to Charlie's level and examined how she looked in the reflection from Charlie's pair of glasses. "I feel like a model." She stood up and began making ridiculous poses, putting on a terrible Russian accent. "Look at me, I'm a supermodel! Tyra Banks is my hero, and I only eat one leaf of spinach a day, but it still makes me feel fat! Now I'll never work for Victoria's Secret!"

"Who's Victoria and what's her secret?" Charlie asked, ever the innocent.

"She's a dead queen of England and her secret is don't marry your cousin," Gwyneth said snapping back to reality. "Now, Mr. Wonka, what madness ensues here that Mike might possibly be interested in?" The group followed Wonka to another part of the room.

"This is the testing room for my very latest and greatest invention," Wonka boasted. "Television Chocolate. One day it occurred to me: Hey, if television can break up a photograph into millions and millions of tiny pieces and send it whizzing through the air then reassemble it on the other end, why can't I do the same thing with chocolate? Why can't I send a real bar of chocolate through the television, all ready to be eaten?" He stopped in front of a small television, where an Oompa-Loompa was watching "Oprah."

"I'm not gonna touch it!" Oprah was saying to the cheers of her cult groupies…I mean, fans. "I'm not going in that direction!"

"That's what she said," Gwyneth said under her breath. She paused. "Ooh! I think I've seen this one! Everyone looks under their chairs to find that Oprah's given them all Lamborghinis and a condo in Boca!" The Oompa-Loompa changed the channel and stopped at _2001: A Space Odyssey_. "Ah, the tiny man likes Kubrick; he's cultured."

"Sounds impossible," Mike's dad said, ignoring the television-related antics of Gwyneth.

"It IS impossible," Mike whined. Wonka just looked at him and stared walking away while the boy continued to rant; Gwyneth unglued her eyes from the TV screen and ran to catch up with them. "You don't understand anything about science."

"Hey, Mike, there's something in your mouth," Gwyneth said. "I think it's your foot." Mike glared at her and continued his rant.

"First off," Mike said, "there's a difference between waves and particles. DUH. Second, the amount of energy it would take to convert energy into matter would be like nine atomic bombs." Wonka turned on him.

"MUMBLER!" Wonka exclaimed. "Seriously. I cannot understand a single word you're saying." Mike stared at him.

"It's okay, Mr. Wonka," Gwyneth said gently. "I think he just learned that from that new game 'Bill Nye Meets the Aliens from Doom.' Or something. The point is, you're smarter than him." Wonka nodded.

"Okey-dokey," Wonka said happily. "I shall now send a bar of chocolate from one end of the room to the other by television! Bring in the chocolate!" Several Oompa-Loompas carried in a ginormous bar of chocolate.

"Oh, thank god Augustus isn't here anymore," Gwyneth sighed to herself. Everyone else watched as the Oompa-Loompas slid the chocolate bar on to the platform in the middle. Gwyneth looked around suspiciously.

"Anyone else hear Strauss?" she asked. No one said anything. She shrugged.

"It's gotta be real big," Wonka explained, 'because you know how on TV you can film a regular-size man and he comes out looking this tall?" He made an example with his fingers. "Same basic principle." With that, he pushed a red button. It caused the chocolate bar to raise into the air and float.

"So something goes from that big," Gwyneth said, pointing at the chocolate bar, "to THIS big?" She made the same example with her hands. Wonka nodded. "Okay, this machine is a giant 'that's what she said' joke." Some lights flickered on, and an Oompa-Loompa sitting at what looked like a cross between a TV camera and machine gun pointed at the chocolate bar. The bar went up into a large plastic shell, the camera guy raising right with it. There was a huge flash of light, and then…

"It's gone!" Charlie exclaimed. Wonka looked at him.

"Told ya," he said triumphantly. "That bar of chocolate is now rushing through the air above our heads in a million tiny little pieces." He started to run off the platform he was standing on. "Come over here! Come on, come on, come on!" Everyone ran to the TV. "Watch the screen." Everyone watched closely at the rocky setting with monkeys. "Here it comes." Gwyneth heard a high-pitched buzzing noise. "Oh, look." And there was the chocolate bar. The monkeys began to run around it.

"Oh, Kubrick would not be happy," Gwyneth breathed, still amazed that Wonka had invented something capable of…well, what had just happened.

"Take it," Wonka said to Mike.

"It's just a picture on a screen," Mike said smart-aleckly.

"Kid, where is your sense of whimsy?" Gwyneth asked.

"Scaredy-cat," Wonka called him, then turned to Charlie. "You take it." Charlie looked a little skeptical. "Go on; just reach out and grab it."

"TWSS," Gwyneth whispered. She heard a rustling behind her; the Oompa-Loompa who had been watching television was trying to watch his movie again. She rolled his eyes at him. "Oh, get Netflix." She turned back to the screen. Charlie reached out to the TV screen and his arm actually went into the screen! He grabbed the chocolate bar while the monkeys threw a fit, because they're new god has just disappeared. Mike looked bested.

"Holy buckets," Grandpa Joe breathed.

"No way, which of your family members are sacred?" Gwyneth asked. Charlie held the candy bar and looked at Wonka.

"Eat it!" he said happily. "Go on. It'll be delicious. It's the same bar; it's just gotten a little smaller on the journey, that's all." Charlie unwrapped the bar, and Wonka made some biting motions with his teeth. Gwyneth started making Pac-Man noises. Charlie took a bit of the candy bar. There was a moment of hesitation.

"It's great!" Charlie said with a smile.

"It's a miracle," Grandpa Joe said in awe. Wonka looked pleased and walked over to where TV Oompa-Loompa was sitting.

"So, imagine," Wonka drew out, "you're sitting at home watching television, and suddenly a commercial will flash on to the screen, and a voice will say 'Wonka's chocolates are the best in the world. If you don't believe us, try one for yourself.' And you simply reach out and take it!" At this point, he reached out and accidentally took Gwyneth's glasses with him. She quickly closed her eyes.

"HEY!" she screamed. "NEED THOSE TO PREVENT FRIED EYEBALLS!" Wonka made a shocked face and quickly placed the glasses into Gwyneth's panicky, outstretched hand, and she quickly put them back on.

"Sorry about that," Wonka said sheepishly.

"Hey, Gwyneth, how many fingers am I holding up?" Mike asked. Gwyneth turned to him.

"Mike, what happened the last time we played this game?" she chided. Mike put his hand down. "And I'm fine, Mr. Wonka, just a teensy bit of mental anguish." Wonka nodded with an unsure smile.

"Mr. Wonka, can you send other things?" Mike's dad asked. "Say, like, breakfast cereal?"

"Do you have any idea what breakfast cereal's made of?" Wonka asked. "It's those little curly wooden shavings you find in pencil sharpeners." Gwyneth made a face.

"If that was true, we'd probably all have some form of lead poisoning," she observed.

"But could you send it by TV if you wanted to?" Charlie asked.

"Of course I could," Wonka said.

"What about people?" Mike asked.

"Well, why would I wanna send a person?" Wonka retaliated. "They don't taste very good at all."

"A: I don't want to know HOW you know that," Gwyneth said. "2: think back to this conversation in about three years."

"Why?" Wonka asked.

"No reason," Gwyneth said innocently. "'cough' SWEENEY TODD 'cough.'" Wonka shrugged.

"Don't you realize what you've invented?" Mike said, sounding somewhat enthused. "It's a teleporter! It's the most important invention in the history of the world!"

"There are several inventors who would argue that claim," Gwyneth mused. "Edison, for one. and Franklin."

"All you think about is chocolate!" Mike accused of Wonka.

"Calm down, Mike," his father said. "I think Mr. Wonka knows what he's talking about."

"No, he doesn't!" Mike ranted. "He has no idea! You think he's a genius, but he's an idiot! But I'm not."

"Oh, I have several differs to beg!" Gwyneth exclaimed at that remark. Mike bounded towards…something, leaping over the Oompa-Loompa watching TV. "Hey! You almost killed him! Be careful!" Mike landed on the ground and pushed two other Oompa-Loompas out of the way. "Oh, that's just spiteful is what that is."

"Hey, little boy," Wonka said. Mike was running up the stairs to the machine. "Don't push my button." But Mike DID push the button and leaped on to the platform, landing on his feet.

"I give him a zero-point-fail for not listening and being an idiot," Gwyneth whispered to Wonka. "And furthermore, don't listen to him; you're not an idiot." Wonka smiled quickly before watching Mike rise on the platform. Mike's dad, Charlie, and Grandpa Joe ran closer to the platform, watching in suspense; even the Oompa-Loompas were watching in fascinate horror. Mike began to float, and it was then that Gwyneth caught a glimpse of the shoes he was wearing.

"You don't deserve to wear Chucks!" she shouted, cupping her hands around her mouth. Mike floated higher and played with the loss of gravity, making stupid dance moves and waving at Wonka in an overly cheerful, annoying way. He made one more final stupid pose before the big flash happened again.

"He's gone!" Mike's dad said in shock.

"Let's go check the television see what we get," Wonka suggested. Everyone crowded around the TV. "I sure hope no part of him gets left behind."

"What do you mean?" Mike's dad asked.

"Well, sometimes only half of the little pieces find their way through," Wonka hesitantly explained. "If you had to choose only one half of your son, which would it be?"

"Didn't King Solomon ask that question to two women about three millenia ago?" Gwyneth asked Wonka. Mike's dad looked at them in horror.

"What kind of a question is that?!" he asked.

"No need to snap, just a question," Wonka mumbled.

"You shouldn't mumble, Mr. Wonka," Gwyneth whispered. "It bums me out." Wonka smirked at that. "Also, in regards to your question, if it's between the half that talks and the half that can kick you, I choose neither." Wonka turned to the TV Oompa-Loompa.

"Try every channel," he ordered. "I'm starting to feel a little anxious." On a news channel (hosted by an Oompa-Loompa), Mike static-ed into view.

"There he is!" Charlie said, pointing.

"Mike," his dad said, worried.

"Shh!" Gwyneth hushed him. "Oompa-Loompa song, and it sounds rockin'!"

_The most important thing that we've ever learned _

_The most important thing we've learned as far as children are concerned _

_Is never, never let them near a television set, _

_or better still just don't install the idiotic thing at all._

As they sang, the channels went from news, to a cooking show to a Rock'em Sock'em Robots commercial to "Psycho." Then to a Kiss concert, and everyone turned around to see the Oompa-Loompas rocking out; Gwyneth held her hands up in "Rock on" form and began to bang her head to the music.

_It rots the senses in the head _

_It kills imagination dead _

_It clogs and clutters up the mind_

_It makes a child so dull and blind _

_so dull and blind, so dull and blind _

_He can no longer understand _

_a fairytale, a fairyland _

_a fairyland, a fairyland _

_His brain becomes as soft as cheese _

_His thinking powers rust and freeze _

_He cannot think, he only sees_

As the drumsticks flew into the air, so did Mike, and the concert shifted to a 60's Beatles-esque concert (either that or the Monkees). Gwyneth held her cell phone out, following suit of the Oompa-Loompas, and waved it back and forth to the beat. Then it shifted back to the Kiss concert.

_Regarding little Mike Teavee, _

_we very much regret that we, regret that we _

_Shall simply have to wait and see _

_We very much regret that we _

_Shall simply have to wait and see _

_If we can get him back to size _

_But if we caaaaaaaaaan't _

_It serves him right!_

At the end, Mike was slammed with a guitar, almost stabbed by Mrs. Bates, had his block knocked off by the red robot, sautéed with a mirepoix, and then slammed with a news folder.

"Ew," Wonka shuddered. "Somebody grab him."

"Ooh!" Gwyneth volunteered. "I want to see what TV-World feel s like!" Tiny Mike was channeling (pun DEFINITELY intended) his inner "The Fly" with his helium-esque plaintive cries of "HELP ME!" Gwyneth picked him up gently through the screen and brought him back to the real world, shuddering.

"TV-World feels cold, artificial, and soulless," she whimpered. She dropped Mike into his dad's outstretched hand.

"Oh, thank heavens," Wonka said, not sounding thankful. "He's completely unharmed."

"Unharmed?! What are you talking about?!" Mike's dad asked, lowering Mike a little.

"What the matter, Mike?" Gwyneth asked. "Feeling small and insignificant?"

"Just put me back in the other way!" he yelped, sounding like a Munchkin.

"There is no other way," Wonka explained. "It's teleVISION not telePHONE, there's quite a difference."

"And what exactly do you propose to do about it?" Gwyneth stared at Mike's dad for a moment. He noticed and looked at her. "WHAT?!"

"Has anyone ever told you you're slightly reminiscent of John Malkovich?" she asked. Mike's dad rolled his eyes.

"Young men are extremely springy, they stretch like mad," Wonka thought to himself. Then he gasped, having a relevation. "Let's go put him in the taffy puller!"

"Taffy puller?!" Mike's dad exclaimed. Wonka pouted.

"Hey, that was my idea," he said. He looked at Mike pensively. "Boy, is he gonna be skinny... Yeah... taffy puller..." He turned to the TV Oompa-Loompa. "I want you to take Mr. Teavee and his…" He turned to look at Mike. "…little boy to the taffy puller, kay? Stretch him out." The Oompa-Loompa bowed and went up to Mike's dad, tugging on his pant leg. The dad, who was holding Mike by the back of his shirt, swung him dangerously close to Wonka's face while following the Oompa-Loompa. Wonka gasped, and then let a sigh of relief out. "On with the tour!" The Oompa-Loompas dimmed the lights.

"Ooh, mood lighting!" Gwyneth observed. "Things are about to get kinky!"

"There's still so much left to see!" Wonka sighed. He turned around, taking his glasses off and turning around. "Now, how many children are left?" Gwyneth and Charlie looked at each other.

"Well, as much as I want to say that there are two, really, it's only Charlie," Gwyneth said. "I'm nineteen, so…" Everyone took off their glasses. Wonka's face froze as he looked at Charlie.

"What happened to the others?" Wonka asked, still shocked.

"Well, one of them nearly faced death by chocolate," Gwyneth ticked off on her fingers, "another one turned into a fruit, yet another was attacked by squirrels, and the last one shrunk himself." She smiled at Wonka with a little giggle.

"Are you sure?" he asked Gwyneth.

"Yes," she insisted. "I didn't do anything bad, but Charlie deserves the prize more than I do. Whatever it is." Wonka smiled softly at her selflessness, and then the smile grew bigger as he turned to Charlie.

"My dear boy, that means you've won!" he announced, grabbing Charlie's hand and shaking it rather roughly. "Oh, I do congratulate you, I really do. I'm absolutely delighted. I had a hunch, you know, right from the beginning. Well done." At this point, Gwyneth grabbed Wonka's hand and extruded it from Charlie's.

"You're going to rip his arm off," she whispered. "I know you're excited, but calm down…heh, that's what she said." Wonka gave a nervous smile and turned back to Charlie.

"Now, we mustn't dilly or dally," he said, still very excited, "because we have an enormous number of things to do before the day's out. But luckily for us, we have the great glass elevator to speed things alon—" Wonka had turned around and accidentally run into said elevator. Gwyneth winced. Charlie and Grandpa Joe looked at each other, then back at Wonka.

"Doesn't feel so great, huh?" Gwyneth said cheekily, leaning over Wonka. "Oh, and that's what she said." Wonka stood up, giving her a look. "I have every right to 'that's what she said' myself."

"Speed things along," he finished, pushing the open button for the elevator. Everyone stepped into the elevator, Gwyneth more hesitantly than the rest of them, and Wonka pressed a button that said "Up and Out."

"'Up and Out?' What kind of room is that?" Charlie asked.

"A 'that's what she said' room," Gwyneth muttered.

"Hold on," Wonka said mysteriously. Charlie looked up at the ceiling, smiling. Gwyneth looked up at the ceiling, and then looked at Wonka with wide eyes.

"OH, no!" she exclaimed, pointing a finger at him. "This thing almost killed me once; I'm not going to let it actually kill me!" Wonka just smiled as the elevator started rocketing towards the ceiling. "AND my stomach's in my throat again."

"Oh my goodness," Wonka said, looking at the ceiling. "We're gonna need to go much faster, otherwise we'll just never break through."

"That's what she said!" Gwyneth said, muffled. Grandpa Joe gave Wonka a worried look.

"Break through what?" Charlie asked. Wonka just kept smiling.

"I've been longing to press that button for years," he said eerily. Gwyneth looked at him with horror.

"You're gonna kill us all!" she accused.

"Or die trying!" he added happily. Gwyneth just sunk to the floor of the elevator and covered her head with her arms. She wasn't about to watch death.

"Well, here we go!" Wonka said. "Up and out!"

"But do you really mean--?" Grandpa Joe asked before Wonka cut him off.

"Yeah, I do!" Wonka said excitedly.

"But it's made of glass!" Grandpa Joe warbled. "It'll smash into a million pieces!" Wonka just laughed dementedly. Gwyneth closed her eyes tighter. And then she heard the sound of smashing glass…

"If this is death, it doesn't feel that different from life," she whimpered.

"Gwyneth, it's all right," Charlie said. Look!" Gwyneth opened her eyes and lifted her head. She saw sky. She looked down and saw buildings that were shrinking….AND now they were growing larger again…at quite an alarming rate.

"Great; now I'm gonna plummet to my death," Gwyneth muttered to herself. "Mr. Wonka, before we die, I'm afraid I shall have to take your cane and club you over the noggin with it." She reached for the cane, but Wonka grabbed her wrist before she could reach it. With his other hand, he pressed another button. And suddenly some rockets were activated, causing the elevator to hover. Gwyneth looked at the rockets as Wonka let her wrist go.

"Bruce Wayne would kill for one of these," she said, impressed. She stood up, dusted herself off, turned to Wonka, smiled, and began to smack him everywhere she could. "IF YOU EVER DO THAT AGAIN, YOU ARE GROUNDED!" Wonka looked at her. "By that, I mean I'm going to smash this contraption to bits so you can never ride it again." Wonka shrugged as the elevator flew to the entrance of the factory. They could see the other kids leaving. Augustus was coated in chocolate and trying to eat himself. Violet was all blue and performing gymnastic tricks that would make those nine-year olds…oops, SIXTEEN-year-olds from China weep. Veruca and her father were COVERED in garbage. Mike was now very tall and flat, kind of like a paper doll. The group in the elevator watched the other group leaving for a while.

"Where do you live?" Wonka asked Charlie. Charlie looked to the side.

"Right over there, that little house," he said, acknowledging the dilapidated structure. Wonka smiled, and the elevator drifted in that direction.

"Ah, here we are!" Wonka said, happily, pushing a button to lower the elevator.

"Um… Mr. Wonka," Gwyneth said nervously, but she was too late. The elevator went crashing through the roof.

"I think there's someone at the door!" Gwyneth could hear an old woman say. Gwyneth hit Wonka in the arm.

"Was that REALLY necessary?" she hissed. Wonka nodded.

"Hi, Mom!" Charlie called, waving. Wonka gave a little wave as the door opened. Charlie ran out of the door.

"Mom, Dad, we're back!" he said, running to hug his parents. Grandpa Joe stepped out carefully. Wonka and Gwyneth were about to both walk out when they both stopped.

"Chocolatiers first," Gwyneth said, motioning with her arm. Wonka smiled and stepped out, then Gwyneth did, carefully avoiding the debris of what had been part of a roof. She stood next to the bed where one of the old women was relaxing.

"This is Willy Wonka," Charlie introduced. "He gave us a ride home."

"I can see that," Charlie's mom said, looking at the hole in the roof.

"And you must be the boy's—" Wonka started, but Gwyneth decided to help him.

"Parents," she said quickly. Wonka turned to her with a thankful look. The Buckets stared at her. "I'm Gwyneth Hejl; I found the sixth Golden Ticket. Charlie and I were besties all day." They all nodded, a little wary.

"She's really nice," Charlie insisted. "And she's really funny."

"Mr. Wonka says Charlie's won something," Grandpa Joe announced.

"Not just SOME something," Wonka said, looking through the Buckets' cupboards. "The most 'something' something of any something that's ever been!"

"Wow, could you be any more vague?" Gwyneth asked Wonka.

"Possibly," Wonka said. Gwyneth walked over to him and closed the cupboards.

"Don't do that," Gwyneth chided. Wonka stared at her blankly, then turned to the Buckets.

"I'm gonna give this little boy my entire factory!" he announced. The family looked shocked. Gwyneth gasped, and then smiled. Charlie DEFINITELY deserved it.

"You must be joking!" Grandpa Joe said.

"No, he's Willy Wonka," Gwyneth clarified. Charlie giggled.

"I told you she's funny," he said. The Buckets did crack a smile; Gwyneth smiled back.

"It's true!" Wonka insisted. "Because you see, a few months ago, I was having my semiannual haircut, and I had the strangest revelation. As my hair was being cut, I found a silver hair that landed on my shoulder. In that silver hair, I saw reflected my life's work, my factory, my beloved Oompa-Loompas. Who would watch over them after I was gone?" The Buckets gave him a strange look.

"Charlie'll explain later," Gwyneth whispered to them while Wonka still had his moment.

"I realized in that moment, I must find a 'heir,' and I did, Charlie! You!" Wonka finished. Gwyneth stared at him.

"Semi-annual haircut?" she asked.

"And that's why you sent out the Golden Tickets?" Charlie asked.

"Uh-huh!" Wonka confirmed. "I invited six children to the factory and the one who was the least rotten would be the winner!" He had begun rummaging through their things again, and Gwyneth went over to stop him. They both saw the model of the factory Charlie had built.

"Mr. Wonka, what did I say about being snoopy?" Gwyneth scolded.

"You didn't say anything about being snoopy," Wonka shot back.

"Only the dog from 'Peanuts' can be Snoopy, then," Gwyneth said, shutting the cupboard. "Charlie, I love that model. It looks just like the factory. A-double-plus!"

"So what do you say?" Wonka asked Charlie. "Are you ready to leave this all behind and come live with me in my factory?" Gwyneth stood by the old woman again.

"Sure, of course!" Charlie said, as if there was anything else he WOULD say. Gwyneth smiled. "I mean, it's all right if my family come too?"

"Oh, my dear boy, of course they can't!" Wonka said happily. Gwyneth's smile dropped. Did Wonka just say that right? "You can't run a chocolate factory with a family hanging over you like an old, dead goose!" He looked over at the old folk. "No offense."

"None taken," the old man who wasn't Grandpa Joe said. "Jerk." Gwyneth smirked.

"Nice one," she whispered. The old man smiled at her.

"I'm Charlie's grandpa George," he introduced himself. "This old bat to my side is Georgina; the one across from me is Josephine." She smiled at all of them, then turned back to Wonka and Charlie.

"A chocolatier has to run free and solo," Wonka waxed lyrical. "He has to follow his dreams, gosh darn the consequences." He stepped back into the elevator. "Look at me; I have no family, and I'm a giant success!"

"Asides from the occasional trip to Wonkaworld," Gwyneth muttered. Wonka glared at her. "Hey, you have deep-rooted family issues that you REFUSE to mention

"So if I go with you to the factory," Charlie cleared up, "I won't ever see my family again?"

"Yeah!" Wonka said. "Consider that a bonus!" Gwyneth was losing respect for Wonka with every word he said…and she thought she felt her heart being dented, too. Charlie stepped forward.

"Then I'm not going," he said simply. Wonka's face fell. "I wouldn't give up my family for anything. Not for all the chocolate in the world." Wonka looked thoroughly confused.

"Oh, I see," Wonka said slowly. "That's weird." He stepped forward a little. "There's other candy besides chocolate."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Wonka," Charlie insisted. "I'm staying here." Gwyneth smiled at Charlie.

"Well, that's just…unexpected," Wonka said. "…and weird." The entire Bucket family just looked at him, proud of Charlie; Grandma Georgina, of course, was smiling. She turned to Gwyneth.

"What's your name, dearie?" she asked brightly.

"Gwyneth," Gwyneth said, smiling back. Grandma Georgina's smiled faded a little.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, dear," she said remorsefully. Gwyneth rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, I get that a lot," Gwyneth scoffed.

"No, for your loss!" Georgina specified sadly.

**wonka's pov**

Wonka couldn't believe Charlie would give up the chance to be a world-famous chocolatier just so he could stay with his FAMILY! But the boy was very adamant about it. The thought crossed his mind that he could ask Gwyneth is she wanted the factory, but he would glance at her quickly at times and aw the expression she had. She would've said the same thing as Charlie, no doubt. There wasn't a point in asking her.

He was about to leave in the elevator when her heard one of the old women apologize to Gwyneth about her "loss." Gwyneth had lost something? He watched from within the glass, and Gwyneth looked just as confused as he probably did.

"What loss?" Gwyneth asked. Suddenly, Gwyneth jumped as she felt her cell phone vibrate. The Bucket family and Wonka watched her look at the caller ID.

"Oh, it's just my mom," Gwyneth said happily, flipping the phone open. "Hello?" There was a slight pause. Some confusion colored her face. "Yes, this is she." Gwyneth's expression went from puzzled to shocked. Wonka stepped fully out of the elevator as the phone conversation continued. Charlie looked at his mom, worried, then back at Gwyneth. "O-okay…yes, thank you, I'll be there in a few minutes…thank you, bye." Gwyneth closed the phone in a state of shock. Her hands were trembling badly.

"What is it, Gwyneth?" Charlie asked. Gwyneth looked at Charlie.

"I need to get to the hospital,' she said shakily. "Something's happened."

**that's it for tonight! CLIFFHANGER! as i said, next chapter will probably be up this weekend. i have two tests in two days that i REALLY need to study for. and this is where the chapters will start to become more serious, in case you coudln't tell.**


	10. goodbye

**hello! i'm back; two tests in one day, and one of them in 8 in the morning…BLURGH. there was a reason i didn't type a chapter yesterday. but thank you for your patience.**

**there have been a couple of questions in regards to grandma georgina; the inspiration for that came from a quote from the movie. she says "things are going to get much better," and then the narrator says "and for once, grandma georgina knew exactly what she was talking about." so yeah, she's intuitive…call it psychic if you want. but i don't hear anyone complaining with "WTF that was stooped, you suck!" because then i'd have to call those people mumblers. because they bum me out.**

**speaking of, this chapter will have little to no funny in it. and for good reason.**

**chapter 9: goodbye**

**the hospital**

Gwyneth walked into the waiting room, looking for someone to help her. Charlie and his mother had decided to go with her. She walked up to the desk to the receptionist.

"I'm here to see my mother, Alma Hejl," she said as politely as she could under the circumstances.

"I'll send a nurse to take you up to her room," the receptionist said, bored. Gwyneth nodded and sat down. Charlie and Mrs. Bucket sat next to her.

"Are you all right, dear?" Mrs. Bucket asked.

"I'm fine," Gwyneth insisted. "I just want to see my mom." She heard someone say her name, and she looked up to see Wonka. She frowned.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, less than cordial.

"Well, I just wanted to make sure you were going to be okay," Wonka said. "I mean, you did mention the hospital." Gwyneth heard a nurse say her name and stood up to follow her, not acknowledging Wonka. When they reached the intensive care unit, the nurse opened the door to a room near the end of the hall. Gwyneth walked in to see her mom, unconscious and pale, in a hospital bed. She was hooked up to several machines, including a beeping heart monitor.

"It's influenza," the nurse informed. Gwyneth nodded, eyes still on her mom. "It's a pretty nasty strain, and with your mother's heart…" Gwyneth sat in a chair next to the bed. "She's just resting right now, but she had a pretty bad fall earlier, which is why we called you." The nurse looked at the two Buckets and Wonka. "Are they with you?"

"Yes," Gwyneth said numbly. "They can stay." The nurse nodded.

"Well, I'll just leave you alone, then." The nurse left. Charlie and his mother sat in some chairs in the far corner of the room, while Wonka looked at some of the pamphlets available to peruse. Gwyneth knew he wasn't feeling comfortable, and she wasn't sure if it was the family factor, the events that had played out before the phone call, or the fact that hospitals, in general, make ANYONE feel uncomfortable. It could have been all three, she didn't care.

"Is your mother going to be all right?" Charlie asked.

"I honestly don't know, Charlie," Gwyneth said, holding Alma's hand; it was cold as ice. "She's had one too many close brushes with…well, I just don't know." She didn't even want to think about the worst-case scenario.

"Are there any family members you want me to call for you?" Mrs. Bucket offered. Gwyneth let out a mirthless laugh.

"What family?" she said. "Mom's the only family I've got left." The room was filled with uneasy silence.

"Charlie, should we go find the cafeteria and get some supper?" Mrs. Bucket said suddenly. Charlie nodded, and they stood up. "Mr. Wonka, would you care to join us?" Wonka looked at them, a little taken aback, but at the look Mrs. Bucket was giving him, he got the hint and left the room with them. Gwyneth was alone with her mom…the beeping of the monitor, after a while, faded into the general white noise of the room. After several minutes, Alma's eyes fluttered open. She smiled weakly at the sight of her daughter.

"Hey you," she whispered raspily.

"Hi, Mom," Gwyneth said gently, smiling. "They called me to tell me you weren't doing too well, and I came straight here." Her mom tried to laugh a little, but it ended in a hacking cough.

"I'm fine, dear," Alma said weakly. "Or at least I will be."

"They said it's just the flu," Gwyneth said positively. "You'll be out of here in a week, tops."

"Not this time, love," Alma said sadly. Gwyneth shook her head.

"Mom, don't say that," Gwyneth said firmly.

"It's true, Gwyneth," Alma said. "My poor heart just can't take it anymore. This flu…it's just a matter of time now." Alma reached up and touched her daughter's cheek. "It'll all turn out all right; I'll be feeling much better when it's all over." Gwyneth smiled, her heart breaking. "Now, tell me about the factory." Gwyneth told her mom all about how beautiful the factory was, and eventually, her mom had fallen asleep again. After several more moments, the Buckets and Wonka returned.

"How is she?" Charlie asked. Gwyneth looked at them, hesitating before she spoke.

"It's just a matter of time," she said simply. Mrs. Bucket placed a hand on her heart, while Wonka looked down, again uncomfortable. Charlie wasn't entirely sure what Gwyneth had meant, but he walked over to her and gave her a hug. Gwyneth held on to him tightly, not wanting to lose anyone else. She promised to herself that she wasn't going to cry…not in front of him…or Wonka.

"We'll stay with you as long as you want us to, dear," Mrs. Bucket told her. Gwyneth nodded, and the two Buckets sat in their chairs again. A couple of hours passed, and the three visitors were reading magazines while the nurse from earlier entered to chart some vitals. She tugged Gwyneth on the sleeve and took her into the hallway.

"Your mother's fading," the nurse said quietly. "It'll be any moment." Gwyneth nodded.

"I'll stay here the whole time," she informed the nurse. She turned her head to the Buckets and Wonka. "So will they. And don't tell me otherwise, I have no other family, I want someone else here." The nurse nodded and walked away. Gwyneth walked into the room again. The three looked up at her. She gave a small forced smile.

"Any moment now," she informed them. She sat next to Alma again. Alma hadn't moved a muscle since her talk with Gwyneth. Several more hours passed, and now it was the early hours of the morning. The whole time, Gwyneth knew the hear t monitor's beeps were getting slower. Charlie had fallen asleep, as had Mrs. Bucket. Wonka had left sometimes; other times, he just read the same magazine over and over again. Gwyneth sat by her mother's side faithfully. The only sounds in the room were the heart monitor, the whirring of other machines, and Wonka flipping pages. Gwyneth heard the pages stop rustling, and she heard some footsteps nearing her.

"What is it, Mr. Wonka?" She asked, not looking at him.

"I was just wondering when your mom's going to wake up," she heard him say. She fought the urge to glare at him.

"As I said earlier, any moment now," Gwyneth said, emphasizing that Alma probably WOULDN'T be waking up. There was a pause.

"Are you okay?" he asked quietly. Gwyneth clenched her jaw.

"Mr. Wonka, I would very much appreciate it if you left," she said coolly.

"Any particular reason why?" he asked, confused.

"Please, Mr. Wonka, just go," Gwyneth said, a little more strained.

"You're a lot less fun now," Wonka mumbled. Gwyneth stood up quickly and whirled around.

"Just because you mumble doesn't mean I can't hear you!" she exclaimed. "In case you haven't noticed, my mother's dying, so excuse me if I'm not longer a 'fun' person to be around!" She could have stopped there, but she let all her frustrations out on the man. "The whole day, you've been acting so incredibly frustrating, and quite frankly, I've had it! You've been making passes at me all day whether you realize it or not, which just gives me confusing feelings that I REALLY don't want to feel! You've made it clear that you have some parental issues with your inexplicable flashbacks to darker memories whenever someone mentions something from your childhood! You've made it very clear that children annoy you with the things that happened to them and your nonchalance towards it! And you made it ABUNDANTLY clear that you hate family in general by telling Charlie he had to choose between his family and the greatest chocolate factory in the world, just because you're so selfish and self-absorbed not to let the past go! I've lost all of my respect for you and all of my patience with you, and if you despise the idea of family so much, you really have no business being here! To be perfectly honest, I don't care if I never see you again; in fact, I would prefer never to see you again as long as I live, you egocentric, immature, frustrating fool!"

**wonka's pov**

Wonka hadn't known Gwyneth would say any of that. He hadn't fully realized her mother was dying, and he hadn't realized she had no respect left for him. Most of all, he hadn't realized her words would hurt him so much. At her final words, he could sense two hearts breaking: his own from what she had just called him, and her heart from her mother. They had a small stare-down before Gwyneth turned around and sat back in the chair next to her mother's bed. Charlie and his mother were still sleeping. Wonka walked out of the room and wandered around the hospital for quite some time, lost in his own thoughts.

Was he wrong in telling Charlie that his family couldn't join him in the factory? He hadn't thought he was; his father had never shown him any support, and he had turned out just fine. Then why all the flashbacks? Everyone had flashbacks at some point in their life, that didn't seem so out of the ordinary. His tumultuous relationship with his father had nothing to do with it. But was that the reason for his aversion to family? And why HAD he stayed at the hospital this long? He froze.

"Because I DO feel something for her," he whispered to himself. He had only known Gwyneth for less than a day, and despite the rather large age difference, he did have the beginnings of feelings for her. He had stayed this long because he wanted to make sure she was going to be all right. And the reason he had felt so hurt at her words was because that was proof that she felt nothing back for him, and probably never would…or maybe she possibly had, but after what he had done to Charlie, she was now disillusioned. Wonka shook his head; that probably wasn't likely. She was nineteen, young , her whole life ahead of her. What would she possibly see in a middle-aged chocolatier like him?

A small cry interrupted his thoughts. He looked to where the cry was coming from. He was across from the room where they kept all the newborn babies. One of them had started letting out a faint, gurgling wail. Wonka smiled a little; he wasn't inhuman, newborn infants were always adorable. A nurse walked in with a small bundle in her arms; this baby had JUST been born. He watched the nurse gently shush and coo to the baby before placing the baby in a bassinet. He smiled a little and kept walking. The miracle of life was a wonder.

He looked at a nearby clock; he had been wandering around for nearly an hour. He decided that before he left, he was going to apologize to Gwyneth for what he had said, and he made his way back to her mother's room. As he approached the door, he waited outside. He peeked in; the Buckets were still asleep. He slowly stepped inside as the heart monitor beeped…and it was then he noticed how long the pause was before the next beep. Gwyneth's mother's heart rate was dangerously slow now.

Gwyneth was holding her mother's hand tightly. Wonka almost didn't want to breathe, the air was that tense…and that sad. Another beep…ages until the next one…one more…and then nothing. He looked at the monitor. He could see the last few blips scroll offscreen as the line went flat. The room was instantly filled with the feeling that something was now missing…something that couldn't be found again.

He turned to Gwyneth, who let out a sigh. Her eyes were wide and full of exhaustion, sadness, and relief. She brought her mother's knuckles to her lips and held them there for a long time. As she brought her mother's head down, she rested her head on the padding next to her mother's body. Wonka stood still for what seemed like an eternity, maybe hoping that the blips would return again. But no. Gwyneth's mother's lips and fingertips were quickly turning blue. He finally decided he had no right being there.

"I'm sorry," he said softly and sincerely before turning around and leaving the room. He didn't look back once.

**gwyneth's pov**

Gwyneth didn't move as she heard Wonka apologize; she was still in shock. Her mom was actually gone. Alma no longer looked like herself; she looked empty…like a shell of herself. Gwyneth reached over and pressed the assistance button. A few moments later, the nurse had arrived to take care of things. Gwyneth walked over to the Buckets and gently shook Mrs. Bucket's shoulder. The woman's eyes fluttered open.

"It's over," Gwyneth whispered. Mrs. Bucket looked over at the bed and then embraced Gwyneth, who didn't move. "I'll help you take Charlie home; let's not wake him up. He doesn't need to see." Mrs. Bucket nodded and lifted her son up. The three of them left the hospital and began walking to the Bucket residence. After a time, Gwyneth carried Charlie until they got back to the house. She placed him gently in his bed. He shifted and opened his eyes sleepily.

"Gwyneth, what happened?" he asked, sleep clogging his voice.

"You're back home," she whispered gently. "Just go back to sleep, okay?" He nodded, falling back to sleep almost instantly. Gwyneth ruffled his hair a little and walked home, shivering. She had left her coat at the factory, thanks to the elevator trip. She would buy a new one tomorrow. She would start taking care of a lot of things tomorrow. She numbly reached the apartment, took a couple of sleeping pills, and fell asleep in her mother's bed. Reality would hit her later; now she just wanted to sleep.

**so…that's what happened. sorry if anyone feels thoroughly depressed after reading that. if wonka was out of character at all, i apologize once again. i'm doing my best not to let that happen, but again, i don't know johnny depp's thought process as he portrayed wonka.**


	11. reunion

**hello! so yeah, i know the chapter was depressing, but things'll be cleared up. this chapter goes back to movie-dialogue and such, so…and it never specifies how much time passed after charlie turned wonka down and the shining-shoes scene, so i'm just guessing.**

**chapter 10: reunion**

**one month later**

The month since the day of the tour went by…Charlie's mother had told him about Gwyneth's mother the day after it had happened. He tried calling her to offer his apologies, but her phone wasn't working. He wanted to go visit her, but his mother didn't think it was a very good idea ("Just let her have time"), so he sent her a card. He looked for anything about the funeral; nothing. There was a bit of publicity for a few days about the death, because the hospital had provided the information, Gwyneth having been a Golden Ticket finder, but each article said that she "could not be reached for comment." Charlie didn't blame her; who wanted to talk to the press after losing a relative?

He helped fix the whole Wonka's elevator had left in the roof while Grandpa Joe cleaned the house. His father got a better job at the toothpaste factory, and Charlie even got a small job shining shoes. Dinner was now more than just cabbage soup, and life was cheerful. Charlie did sometimes think about what would have happened if he had accepted Wonka's offer, but with every hug his mother gave him and every story his grandfathers would tell him (even every crazy thing to leave Grandma Georgina's mouth), he was sure he had made the right decision. He couldn't help but wonder, though, how Wonka was doing, because according to the papers, things could have been better.

**wonka's pov**

Wonka was in a meeting with his Oompa-Loompa psychiatrist. Wonka was lying on a couch as the Oompa-Loompa sat in a large, red chair.

"I just can't put my finger on it," he said. "Candy's always been the only thing I was ever certain of, and now I'm just not certain at all. I don't which flavors to make, I don't know which ideas to try, I'm second-guessing myself, which is nuts. I've always made whatever candy I felt like, and I…" He trailed off. Then he sat up, having some sort of epiphany. His psychiatrist took some notes, then looked up at him. "That's just it, isn't it? I make the candy I feel like, but now I feel terrible, so the candy's terrible!" He gave the psychiatrist a look. "You're very good." His psychiatrist took off his glasses, thought about something, then nodded at him. Wonka stood up and walked away, head abuzz with what he needed to do to feel better.

First, he wanted to make amends with Charlie. The boy was the only one who was genuinely happy to be at the factory, and he really did want to live at the factory…if he could've brought his family. Either Wonka would have to convince him to leave his family, or he would have to face his father…that thought made him shudder. Regardless, he needed to talk to Charlie. Charlie seemed like a genuinely happy person; maybe there were some other ideas to snap him out of this funk.

Second…maybe Charlie knew something about Gwyneth. Wonka hadn't even tried to contact Gwyneth since the hospital. But she sure stayed present in his mind; he even read some of the stuff by that Ginsberg fellow she had mentioned in the Inventing Room…not his cup of cocoa, really. Maybe Charlie knew if she was doing all right. He just wanted to know if she was okay, because the newspapers and TV weren't saying anything; she couldn't be reached for comment. Perhaps she was avoiding the press as he did…

He grabbed his coat and his hat and headed out to wintry England; he had been informed by one of his Oompa-Loompas that Charlie had a shoe-shining job…and his shoes were looking a little scuffed…

**charlie's pov**

Charlie finished shining one man's shoes and went on to the next customer. His face was blocked by a newspaper he was reading; one of the headlines was "Outlook Gloomy for Wonka Sales." Charlie readied his brush and went to work. Then the man spoke.

"Pity about that chocolate fellow," the man said. "Wendell—Walter." Charlie rolled his eyes; THAT wasn't subtle. And he wasn't trying very hard to disguise his voice.

"Willy Wonka," Charlie corrected.

"That's the one," Wonka said. "Says here in the paper his new candies aren't selling very well. But I suppose maybe he's just a rotten egg who deserves it."

"Yep," Charlie agreed, still shining shoes.

"Oh, really?" Wonka said, trying to sound nonchalant. "You ever met him?" Charlie stopped his shoe-shining for a minute.

"I did," Charlie said. "I thought he was great at first. But then he didn't turn out so nice." He moved on to the other shoe. "He also has a funny haircut." Wonka slammed the paper down.

"I do not!" Wonka said impetuously. Charlie looked up at him.

"Why are you here?" he asked.

"I don't feel so hot," Wonka said. "What makes you feel better when you feel terrible?"

"My family," Charlie answered. Wonka made a face and leaned back. Charlie rolled his eyes again and stood up. "What do you have against my family?"

"It's not just your family," Wonka explained. "It's the whole idea of…" He stopped, making that face he always made whenever anyone mentioned family. "You know, they're always telling you what to do, what not to do, and it's not conducive to a creative atmosphere."

"Usually, they're just trying to protect you," Charlie reasoned, "because they love you." Wonka made another face. "If you don't believe me, you should ask."

"Ask who? My father?" Wonka suggest sarcastically, ending with his giggle (which was mirthless). "No way. At least, not by myself." Charlie sighed.

"You want me to go with you?" he asked. Wonka looked at him and smiled.

"Hey…hey, what a good idea!" he exclaimed. Charlie smiled back at him. "Yeah!" Wonka stood up and left the newspaper behind. Wonka looked back to tell him something else. "And you know what? I've got transporta—" Wonka ran into the glass elevator, falling to the ground. He stood up bashfully. "I have to be more careful where I park this thing." He opened the elevator, and after the door closed, they flew up into the air, off to Wonka's father's house. They stood in silence for a moment.

"Have you heard from Gwyneth at all?" Wonka asked casually. Charlie looked at him; it was hard to read the chocolatier from those sunglasses he was wearing.

"No," Charlie said simply. "I tried contacting her, but wasn't successful. " Wonka nodded. There was more silence.

"Did you know about her…?" Wonka asked.

"Yes," Charlie said. "My mother told me when I woke up. That's when I tried calling her…no answer. I sent her a card. And I tried visiting her a few weeks later, but again, no answer." Wonka didn't say anything. Charlie looked up at him. "Do you like her?" Wonka looked taken aback.

"No!" he insisted, laughing fakely. "I just…I mean, she lost her…I just wanted to see if she was all right." Charlie raised an eyebrow. Wonka's face fell. "Yeah, I like her…a little." Charlie smirked. "But after…well, she kind of blew up at me at the hospital…you were asleep, so you missed it; anyway, I don't think she wants anything to do with me now."

"You never know until you try," Charlie advised.

"Well, how can I try?" Wonka scoffed. "She's apparently cut herself from the world." Charlie looked back down. "Then again, I guess one can't blame her." Charlie nodded as the weather grew blustery. Snow swirled around a small building seemingly in the middle of nowhere. As the elevator landed, the snow stopped. Wonka and Charlie approached it slowly. As they walked up the stairs, Wonka began to panic.

"I think we've got the wrong house," he said nervously, coming face-to-face with a plaque that said "Dr. Wilbur Wonka, Dental Practice." Charlie buzzed the doorbell. An older man, but not as old as Grandpa Joe, answered the door. He was quite distinguished. He stared at the two for a moment.

"Do you have an appointment?" he asked, his voice a little raspy.

"No," Charlie said, "but he's overdue." Dr. Wonka led them to his office, where the chocolatier was seated into a dentist's chair. The seat flew back as Dr. Wonka readied that little mirror device dentists have and that little scrapy thing.

"Open," he said. Wonka was hesitant, but complied. "Now, let's see what the damage is, shall we?" Charlie stood by in a waiting room area while Dr. Wonka examined Willy Wonka's teeth. He noticed something on the wall and walked over. A series of framed newspaper clippings were hanging on the wall. They were all about the factory. On a dresser was a picture of the chocolatier as a boy. He turned a page in a scrapbook full of more clippings.

"Heavens," the dentist said. "I haven't seen bicuspids like these since…" Charlie looked back up at them. Realization hit the dentist. "Since…" He removed the instruments from Wonka's mouth, which he closed. "Willy?"

"Hi, Dad," Wonka said a little embarrassedly. Dr. Wonka put the instruments down, and Willy Wonka sat up.

"All these years," Dr. Wonka said, a little emotional, "and you haven't flossed." Wonka shook his head.

"Not once," he said. The dentist was smiling. There was a squeaking of white and purple gloves as they went into an awkward yet familiar, and long overdue, embrace. Charlie watched and smiled, very happy that they were able to reconcile. After another moment, the reunited father and son let go and looked at each other again.

"Dad, I want you to meet Charlie Bucket," Wonka introduced, standing up and walking over to the boy. "He was one of the children who found a Golden Ticket." Dr. Wonka took off his gloves and shook the boy's hand.

"A pleasure to meet you, sir," Charlie said politely. "And I floss my teeth every night. My dad actually works at a toothpaste factory." The dentist smiled at him.

"So, how was the factory?" Dr. Wonka asked.

"It was wonderful," Charlie said truthfully.

"Charlie was actually the winner at the end of the tour," Wonka interrupted. "I gave him my entire factory." Dr. Wonka raised his eyebrows.

"I turned it down," Charlie said. "Mr. Wonka said I would have to leave my family behind." Dr. Wonka gave his son a disparaging look. Wonka giggled nervously.

"That was mostly because of my own familial issues," he explained, "but now everything's fine, so…Charlie, I still want you to come live in the factory and learn how to run it. And your family can come. Your grandpa said he used to work there, so he could help, too, if he's up to it." Charlie looked at him for a moment, thinking about it.

"I'll have to talk to my family," Charlie said, "and so will you. Just to explain things."

"Okey-dokey!" Wonka said happily. Just then, the doorbell buzzed again. The person at the door opened it.

"Dr. Wonka?" a female voice said. Someone walked up the stairs. As she came into view, Dr. Wonka raised his eyebrows, Charlie gasped, and Wonka's jaw dropped. As the person looked up, her eyes went wide with shock as well.

It was Gwyneth.

…**yeah, at least ONE of you saw that coming. someone's actually seen that coming since chapter 2, i think, but i wasn't about to say anything. but yeah, small cliffhanger here. i'll try to have the next two chapters up tomorrow; i'm trying to finish this story before i go on thanksgiving break (tuesday night). and my monday and tuesday are already kind of busy. so there are a few more chapters to go, and then it's over! and i usually don't write sequels, so…**


	12. explanations

**hello! okay, my goal is two chapters today; maybe it'll happened, maybe it won't. let's see, though.**

**chapter 11: explanations**

Gwyneth and Wonka stared at each other, one in disbelief, the other in slight disbelief and embarrassment.

"Gwyneth!" Charlie exclaimed happily, running over to her and wrapping his arms around her waist. Gwyneth was taken aback by the boy's affection and stumbled. She looked down at him.

"Charlie," she said, voice strained. "It's been a while." She ruffled his hair a little, but didn't smile. Charlie let her go and she walked over to the dentist. "Dr. Wonka, I wanted to apologize for not letting you know I wasn't showing up for my next appointment. I just couldn't deal with…you know…people."

"It's understandable," the dentist said kindly. "How are you doing?" Gwyneth sighed and shrugged.

"Just…getting by," she said. "But I came here to schedule another appointment; it'll have to be a couple weeks from now, I have…lawyers and people to meet with." The dentist nodded and left to fetch his appointment book. Gwyneth turned back to the boy and the chocolatier.

"How are you, Charlie?" she asked.

"I'm well," Charlie said. "Dad got a new job, a better one. And I'm shining shoes sometimes."

"That's wonderful," Gwyneth said, though her face seemed to say otherwise. Charlie frowned a little. "Don't be offended if I don't smile, it's just…well, what do I have to smile about these days?"

"Mom told me about what happened," Charlie said. "I'm really sorry."

"Don't be," Gwyneth said. "I've heard that from too many people for one lifetime." Charlie offered a small smile, which Gwyneth didn't return. Charlie then motioned to Wonka.

"Mr. Wonka's offered me the factory again," Charlie said happily. "And he said my family could come."

"Did he?" Gwyneth said, a little embarrassed to see Wonka again. Wonka smiled a small, nervous smile, and nodded at her. "It's…good to see you again, Mr. Wonka."

"It's good to see you too, Gwyneth," Wonka said politely. "You look well." To be honest, she looked nothing like she did that day at the factory. He hair was pulled back, but the ponytail was loose and falling out. Her skin was paler, and she has dark circles under her eyes. She had taken her coat off when she had entered the office, and she was wearing a plain purple button-up sweater, dark blue jeans, and some black boots.

"Thank you," Gwyneth said, not believing him; she knew she looked worse for the well. "You too."

"Thank you," Wonka replied. Charlie watched the exchange; had Gwyneth not gone through a tragedy, he probably would have found the situation hilariously awkward. Just then, Dr. Wonka reentered the room, appointment book in hand.

"Gwyneth, I see you've met my son, Willy," Dr. Wonka said, smiling.

"Yes, we've met before," Gwyneth said. "I found one of the Golden Tickets."

"Ah, yes, I seem to remember you apologizing to me for buying a chocolate bar," Dr. Wonka said happily; Gwyneth just nodded. "And did you enjoy the factory?" Gwyneth paused.

"It was wonderful," She said, looking at Wonka for a moment. Then she approached the dentist. "Now, what does your schedule look like?"

"Well, I have some times open the week of Thanksgiving," Dr. Wonka said, pointing them out.

"I think Monday would work best, then," Gwyneth said, placing her finger at one place on the book.

"Okay, Monday, then," Dr. Wonka agreed, penciling it in. "Thanks for stopping by."

"You're welcome, Dr. Wonka," Gwyneth said, shaking his hand.

"Gwyneth, would you like to ride home with us?" Charlie asked. "Mr. Wonka brought the elevator." Gwyneth paused, looking a little wary, but Charlie played up the cuteness factor.

"That would be lovely, thank you," Gwyneth finally said, putting her coat on and following the two down the stairs.

"I like your coat, by the way," Charlie said.

"Thank you," Gwyneth said as she buttoned it. "I just bought it today. I left my old one at the factory, so…" Wonka looked down, embarrassed. They all stepped into the elevator, and it took off. They stood in silence for a while.

"I tried calling you," Charlie said to Gwyneth, "but your phone wasn't working. And I tried visiting, but it seemed as if you weren't home." Gwyneth looked at him, feeling awful.

"I'm sorry, Charlie," she said, meaning it. "After…that day, I was getting dozens of calls from the press, so I just unplugged the phone…haven't plugged it back in. And I ignored any knocks on the door; at the beginning, it was reporters, and afterwards…as I said to Dr. Wonka, I just couldn't see people for a while."

"Are you all right?" Wonka asked. Gwyneth looked up at him, and then back down at the world below.

"I've actually been doing better than I thought I would," she said with half-hearted optimism. "No tears or anything, the officials I've met with and everything are very helpful." Wonka had a feeling that there was more behind Gwyneth's words than she was letting on. But he said nothing about it.

"So you know my father?" he asked, trying not to sound cold, considering he and his father had just reconciled.

"Yes, and I know I didn't say anything," Gwyneth answered. "Your father has always been very kind, so I guess I couldn't understand why you freaked out so much at the idea of family."

"You mean my little trips to Wonkaworld?" Wonka attempted to joke.

"I suppose," Gwyneth shrugged. Charlie and Wonka frowned a little. At the factory, Gwyneth had always made jokes and smiled and had very few inhibitions; now she was quiet and reserved. Her mother's death had really hit her hard. She turned to them slowly and shyly.

"Would you like to visit my mother?" Gwyneth asked. "I was planning to visit today, and I figured…since you're here…and you never actually got to meet her." They both nodded. Then the silence filled the elevator again. After a few moments, Gwyneth said they could land. The elevator touched base on a street corner across from a wrought iron gate that closed off a cemetery from the streets. Gwyneth walked in the opposite direction a little bit before reaching a flower shop.

"I'll only be a moment," she told Charlie and Wonka before walking in.

"She's really changed," Charlie said sadly. "She hasn't smiled once."

"I don't think she's doing as well as she's leading us to believe," Wonka voiced his thoughts. "If she hasn't cried yet, it'll happen eventually, and it won't be good." Charlie nodded. "My mother died when I was very young. My dad never cried in front of me, but I could hear him at night…it was then that he became more strict and anti-sugar. I think that's when I grew apart from him and started to dislike the idea of family." Charlie nodded. Then the door opened again, and Gwyneth appeared with an armful of white gladiolas.

"My mom's favorite flower," Gwyneth explained, brushing her fingertips against some of the petals. "They're so fragile and papery…she thought they were exquisite…shall we?" She walked to the gate and entered the cemetery. Wonka and Charlie peered around at the gravestones surrounding them. There was a large bare tree that was coated with rime in the corner of the cemetery. Gwyneth approached it. There was a small gravestone marking a still-fresh grave; at its foot was a half-dead bouquet of roses. It read "ALMA DUSANA HEJL," along with the dates of birth and death. Wonka took his hat of as a sign of respect.

"This was a lucky find," Gwyneth said. "It'll be gorgeous in the spring, with the tree all green and shady…" She knelt and moved the moribund bouquet to the side, placing the gladiolas as a substitute. She stayed there for a minute. "We had the service late at night so the press wouldn't bug us; it was just me, my friend Sean, the minister, and the gravedigger." Charlie folded his hands and said a silent prayer; Wonka just stood there quietly. Then Gwyneth kissed her fingers and touched the gravestone. She stood up with the half-dead roses, touching the blooms.

"The petals are so much softer when they're dying than when they were alive," she thought aloud. She held the bouquet out to Wonka and Charlie. "Feel." They both did hesitantly; Wonka, with his gloves, couldn't feel it, but Charlie did.

"That's weird," Charlie said.

"But beautiful," Gwyneth added. They left the cemetery, and Gwyneth threw the flowers away in a wastebasket. "Would you like to come to my place? It's really cold outside, I can make us some tea." Wonka and Charlie nodded, and they all went into the elevator again. They hovered in silence.

"I read that poem," Wonka said suddenly. Gwyneth looked at him strangely. "Ginsberg. I read his poem that you had mentioned, 'Howl.'"

"I can't really see you reading Ginsberg," Gwyneth commented, looking down again.

"Well, it was interesting to read," Wonka said. "My favorite line was the one about the people who 'wept at the romance of the streets with their pushcarts full of onions and bad music.'"

"That's my favorite, too," Gwyneth agreed, "and the scourge of every creative writing major alive because deep down they know that they could try for a thousand years and never come up with something half as beautiful."

"Who's Ginsberg?" Charlie asked.

"A poet from the Beat generation," Gwyneth answered. "But you wouldn't really understand his poetry until you're older…and you shouldn't read it until you're older regardless." Charlie nodded. "How's school going, Charlie?"

"Fine," Charlie said. "How about you? You must be in college." Gwyneth's face grew sullen.

"Not for much longer," she muttered. "Even after Mom's will, with the expenses for the funeral and the hospital and…so many other things, I'm going to have to drop out, I won't be able to pay for it. Mom and I never really had that much to begin with…" She avoided eye contact with them and pointed at the building. "There's the apartment complex." The elevator landed, and they walked up to Gwyneth's apartment. She unlocked the door and led them inside.

"You can just leave your coats anywhere," she said, walking into the living room, trying to straighten up. "Sorry, it's kind of a mess." Charlie and Wonka just looked around, admiring the apartment. It was a little messy, but it was still a nice apartment. Wonka walked over to the piano.

"This is your piano?" he asked. Gwyneth nodded, straightening out a stack of something on the table.

"Yes," she said. "It's been in my family for years…" The keys were terribly yellow, and the wood had lost its luster, but…

"It's probably the most beautiful instrument I've ever seen," Wonka said honestly. Gwyneth looked at him; his smile gave nothing away. He was being truthful.

"I should start making that tea," she said hastily, walking into the kitchen. She returned a moment later with a small bottle.

"Charlie, I have those Flintstone vitamins I told you I would give you," she said, handing the bottle to Charlie. "Take them with food, though; if you take one without, the iron will make you feel sick all day."

"Thanks," Charlie said, walking over to the table as Gwyneth went back into the kitchen. The stack she had been straightening out was a stack of cards. "Gwyneth, did you get my card?"

"Yeah, it's in there somewhere," she called from the kitchen. Charlie looked through the cards. "I've gotten so many…even ones from the other Golden Ticket finders. The one from my friend Sean's the best." At the moment, Charlie had come across the card from Sean. On the front was a picture of a duck-billed platypus playing checkers with a rhinoceros, and in the background was a hot dog with arms holding up a lemonade stand at gunpoint; he opened the card, and inside was printed, "The world is messed up, man." Charlie giggled. It was a good card. He handed it to Wonka to look at when they both heard something break. They both looked up at each other, and then they heard a louder breaking sound and something that sounded like weeping. They both went into the kitchen to make sure Gwyneth was okay.

She had sunk to the ground in tears, her arms covering her head. Charlie looked to the side to see two broken coffee mugs that she had apparently thrown at the wall. Charlie knelt beside Gwyneth and held her as she cried. Wonka wasn't sure what to do; he heard a whistling, and turned to see a kettle on the stove and moved it off of the heat, turning the stove off. Then he turned back to Charlie and Gwyneth. Gwyneth's body was wracked with sobs that she had been holding back, and something had made the dam burst. Watching her feel so sad broke his heart. Charlie sat next to her, comforting her until she finally calmed down, breathing heavily.

"Come on," Charlie said gently, helping her stand up. He helped her walk to the couch, where she laid down. Charlie fetched a pillow and blanket. "You just get some sleep; it'll help." Gwyneth closed her eyes, getting ready to sleep. Charlie looked at the clock. "Gwyneth, I have to go home, but Mr. Wonka will stop by later to see how you're doing." Gwyneth made a small sound, acknowledging that she had heard Charlie; it wasn't long before she had fallen fast asleep.

Wonka took Charlie back to the Bucket residence, where Charlie told his parents that Wonka had offered him the factory again, and that the family could come. Wonka also mentioned that he had made up with his father, and explained his hesitance to families previously in life. The Buckets were very understanding and accepted the offer. Charlie then told them that they ran into Gwyneth, and that Wonka's dad was Gwyneth's dentist, and how Gwyneth had to drop out of school. Wonka left hearing the Bucket parents discuss the possibility of offering Gwyneth a place to live with them. By this time, it was growing dark outside. He took the elevator back to Gwyneth's apartment. He knocked on the door and waited. He knocked again.

"Gwyneth, it's Mr. Wonka," he said. No answer. He opened the door quietly and saw her still asleep on the couch. Tears were still trailing down her cheeks even as she slept. He let her sleep and went into the kitchen. He swept up the broken coffee mug pieces and found two more mugs. He heated the tea up again and poured some for Gwyneth and some for himself. After adding a good amount of sugar to his tea, he brought in Gwyneth's cup and a little dish of sugar and placed it on the table. He sat in a chair opposite of the couch and waited for Gwyneth to wake up. A few moments later, she did. Her eyes fluttered open, and she saw Wonka.

"The door was open," he said. She just blinked again.

"You didn't have to come back," Gwyneth said quietly, her voice clogged with sleep. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying.

"I said I would," Wonka reminded her. "Well, actually, Charlie did, but…here I am." Gwyneth reached up to wipe some tears away when Wonka handed her a box of tissues.

"Thank you," she muttered, drying her eyes. "I bet I look really pretty right now."

"You always look pretty," Wonka said before he could stop himself. Gwyneth looked at him as he looked down, embarrassed.

"You're sweet," she said gently. "You're a liar, but you're sweet." She continued lying on the couch, blanket wrapped around her.

"Did you really have to drop out of school?" Wonka asked.

"Yes," she admitted, tears welling up again. "I can't afford the bills as it is…I'll probably have to sell the piano…maybe the apartment itself, find somewhere cheaper to live."

"Doesn't that scare you?" Wonka asked.

"Are you kidding?" Gwyneth confessed. "It terrifies me." She brushed away a few runaway tears. She sat upright, keeping the blanket draped over her shoulders. "I just try not to think about it…I just let it loom over me." Wonka nodded and stood up.

"I reheated the tea," he said, bringing her a cup and the sugar. "I didn't know if you took it with anything." She took the cup and warmed her hands, inhaling the aroma of the tea. She took a small sip.

"It could use a little sweetness," she said, putting one spoonful of sugar into her tea. They both drank their tea for a while.

"Charlie talked to his parents about the factory," Wonka said, trying to make small talk. "They're all coming to live in the factory; we're going to work on moving their house into the Chocolate Room."

"That's great," Gwyneth said, trying to sound cheerful. "Charlie's a great kid; he deserves it." Another sip of tea. "You're moving the whole house into the factory?"

"Yep," Wonka said simply. Gwyneth decided not to question further.

"I read in the paper that business isn't doing too well," Gwyneth said.

"Well, I usually make what I feel like making," Wonka said, "and I wasn't feeling great, so the candy wasn't turning out great."

"You seem fine now," Gwyneth observed.

"Well, I wanted to make things right with Charlie, which involved making things right with my father," Wonka explained. "And…I wanted to see you." Gwyneth choked on her tea. "Just to make sure you were all right." Gwyneth coughed a little and nodded. There was a pause.

"I'm sorry for saying everything I did at the hospital," she said. "I didn't mean any of it, I was just…" Wonka reached out to take her hand.

"Hey, it's okay," he said. They both felt a little nervous at the contact of their hands, and Wonka hastily withdrew his own. They continued to drink their tea, and Wonka looked at her inconspicuously. She seemed as if she had grown up about ten years. The day at the factory, she didn't act her age at all; she was loud and didn't take everything so seriously. The moment her mother had died, the girl had become a woman.

"What?" Gwyneth's voice snapped him out of his train of thought. "You were staring at me…what is it?"

"You're not you," he said. She furrowed her brow. "At the factory, when you mentioned your mom going to the hospital, you were still very optimistic and hopeful, and now…it seems like you're giving up." Gwyneth's eyes hardened; her grip on her coffee mug tightened.

"Mr. Wonka, unless you've lost a parent, I don't suggest that you would know what I'm going through," Gwyneth said coldly.

"But I do," Wonka said. Gwyneth didn't budge. "My mom died when I was very young. Yes, I was too young to fully understand the concept of death, but it changed my father into…what he was for many years. He was cold and forbidding, only cared about dentistry. I wasn't allowed to eat candy through my childhood…you should've seen my braces and headgear…eventually, I was able to salvage one piece of chocolate and discovered it was what I wanted to do with life. My dad wanted none of it, so I left; he said he wouldn't be there if I ever came back. He was right…so I just never talked to him after that…that is, until today." Gwyneth's eyes had softened. "You said you wanted an explanation for the trips to Wonkaworld…and there you have it."

"He collected every newspaper clipping about the factory or anything new you created," Gwyneth said. "It's all over the waiting room at his office, as you've seen now…he does care about you…always has. I guess I just couldn't understand why you hated family so much, but…God, I feel awful now." She put her cup of tea down and started to cry again.

"Oh, please don't cry," Wonka pleaded, but Gwyneth didn't listen. Wonka put his own cup of tea down and knelt to her level. He cautiously and slowly reached his arms out and wrapped them around her. She cried into his shoulder for a few minutes while he quietly held her, stroking her hair comfortingly. After she had calmed down, he let her go, but kept his hands on her shoulders. She reached up to wipe her tears away.

"I'm sorry about that," she said.

"It's okay," he insisted. Any trace of tears was gone, and she looked at him as he offered her an understanding smile. It was then they realized exactly how close they were. It was both unsettling, yet familiar and comfortable. They didn't move closer, but they didn't move away; they just studied each other for a moment. Then Wonka came to his sense and removed his hands from her shoulders and stood up, walking back to the chair.

"It looks like you're done with her tea," he said as nonchalantly as he could. "I'll take it into the kitchen for you." He took his coffee mug, hers, and the sugar dish and walked into the kitchen carefully. Gwyneth ran a hand through her hair, trying to untangle it a little from when she had napped. She heard a breaking sound, paused, and stood up to walk into the kitchen; she held the blanket tightly around her shoulders. She saw that Wonka had accidentally dropped one of the mugs.

"Sorry, I thought I could balance everything," he said sheepishly.

"Don't worry about it, I already hurled two at the wall anyway," she said jokingly. They both paused as they realized…"That's the first joke I've made in a really long time." Wonka smiled.

"I'm glad my clumsiness was able to help," he said back, but Gwyneth was still slightly in shock from having actually joked about something. "Gwyneth?" She looked up at him. "Would you mind if I played your piano a little bit?"

"I thought you said you didn't play," she remembered from when she had played the chocolate piano at the factory.

"I can only play, like, one thing," he scoffed. She sat down on the piano bench next to him to watch him play. His purple-gloved fingers stretched a little as she heard a familiar tune. For the first time in a month, she smiled a small smile. Wonka was playing "Heart and Soul," which any six-year-old could play. She looked at him, and he smiled back at her.

"There's a smile," he said happily. She nudged him and began playing the melody with one hand.

"We're not bad," she commented, running her fingers over the piano keys she loved so much. They continued playing for a while, the tune simple. Gwyneth missed the sound of his instrument.

Suddenly things changed. One minute, she was playing the piano with Wonka…and the next minute, he had stopped, and he was kissing her.

…**and now all of you HATE me for stopping here. i actually stole the kiss idea from the play "dog sees god." i'll type up the next chapter tonight. I need a little break right now.**


	13. really like

**i'm back! yeah, so…what's gonna happen?! this will either be the last chapter or the second to last chapter. i haven't decided yet. it'll either be one really long chapter or two shorter chapters. so here we go.**

**chapter 12: really like**

Wonka had never had much experience with girls because of the headgear when he was younger, and because of the eccentric-chocolatier-factor when he was older. Gwyneth had never had much experience with guys because…well, they thought she was weird. So this kiss was all very new to them.

Gwyneth was pretty much in shock, and she closed her eyes on instinct (that's what they always did in the movies). The blanket that had been nestled around her shoulders fell to the ground. Wonka was holding both of her elbows where they bent, so she reached up to steady herself and held on to his forearms. And after a moment, she felt him pull away. She immediately opened her eyes, and they both looked at each other in…well, shock…and, in Wonka's case, sheer horror.

"I should NOT have done that," he said, standing up. "I am so sorry." He walked away, almost towards the door, when Gwyneth stood up.

"Mr. Wonka," she said. He stopped and slowly turned around. She picked the blanket up and sat on the couch. "Now that's it's happened, we should probably talk about it. We've already talked about everything else." She motioned towards the spot on the couch next to her. He sat down reluctantly. "So…did that have something to do with everything at the factory?" Everything was the hand-holding in the boat, the piano room, all the stuff in the elevator…

"Gwyneth, I've been honest to you all day," Wonka began, "and I'm not about to start lying now. I do have feelings for you…to some degree. I mean, I'm not head-over-heels in love with you, I mean…that's crazy, we hardly know each other. But I do like you, I REALLY like you. And I think with time, I would probably love you and fall IN love with you…and I know I had no right in kissing you, but…what other chance am I going to have?" He looked down at his twisting hands, nervous.

"Mr. Wonka—" she started, but Wonka interrupted.

"I think after…THAT, we're beyond formalities," he said quietly. Gwyneth nodded.

"Right…Willy, then," she corrected herself. "I've just lost my mother…I've lost my chance at a good education, I'm about to lose my home…let's just say we DID give it a shot, what's not to say I wouldn't lose you, because I would eventually, be it a break-up or…you dying yourself." Wonka looked up at her.

"I don't plan on dying for a really long time," he assured her.

"Well, neither did my mom," Gwyneth retaliated. "At least, I don't think she did…" She drifted off. He waited for her to say something else. "Willy, I'm feeling a lot of things right now that I really don't want to…loss, sadness, hopelessness…and yes, I do have the beginnings of feelings for you, and I'm not saying I don't want to not feel them, I'm just…I'm scared to DEATH of feeling them with everything else happening." Wonka smiled inwardly; she did feel SOMETHING for him.

"I would wait for you as long as you want," he said. "And I would help you."

"You're twenty years older than me," she pointed out.

"There are other relationships out there with much wider age differences," he countered.

"I'm not even sure what I want to do with my life, how am I supposed to be so sure about THIS?" Gwyneth cried. "Everything's such a huge mess right now…I'M such a huge mess right now, what do you see in me?" There was a pause as Wonka chose his words.

"I should very well ask what is it you would see in me," he said quietly. "You've got this wonderful, vibrant personality, and you laugh WITH me, not AT me. You're practically Charlie's big sister, you're so good to him. And I wasn't lying before when I said you were always pretty, because you are…I wouldn't deserve someone like you." Gwyneth had tears rolling down her face, and she wiped them away quickly.

"That's stupid," she sniffled. "You're the single most creative person I've ever met, and you're one of the first guys I've met that hasn't shunned me for being the weirdo I usually am. Like, you actually care about how I'm doing…I keep thinking, what would a world-renowned chocolatier see in a nobody like me?"

"Just like I keep thinking, what would a beautiful, unique young woman see in such an eccentric bat like me?" Wonka said.

"But that's the thing, isn't it?" Gwyneth pointed out. "We see SOMETHING in each other." Gwyneth leaned her head against Wonka's shoulder, and he leaned his cheek against the top of her head. He smiled to himself. They sat like that for a while.

"I want you to come live in the factory," he said suddenly. Gwyneth took her head off his shoulder and looked at him.

"What?" she asked.

"Before I left the Buckets, they were talking about asking you to live with them," Wonka explained. "You could live in the factory with them and work with me and Charlie. You wouldn't have to worry about school or bills or anything. You were the only other person who was truly interested in the factory, and if you hadn't given the prize to Charlie, I was going to have had a hard decision on my hands as to who deserved it more." Gwyneth stared at him in disbelief.

"You're serious about this," she murmured.

"I want to help you in any way I can," Wonka said. "I don't want to risk losing the only woman that might actually have feelings for me." Gwyneth was still deep in thought. "You can bring your piano; I wouldn't dream of you having to give that up."

"But what if I did want to continue learning…something?" she asked. "I don't really want to go back to school, but I do enjoy reading."

"I already have some books," Wonka said, "but for you, I would move a whole library into the factory."

"What if we did start something, and it didn't end up working out?" Gwyneth asked. Wonka hesitated on that.

"I like to think we're friends…at least, I'd HOPE we're friends," he said slowly. "I would rather lose you as a paramour than I would lose you as a friend…but we'll worry about that if it ever happens. For the moment…" She was still looking scared and hesitant. He took her hand gently. "You are not a huge mess. You're just someone who's going through some rough times…and you have someone who happens to like you a lot who just wants to help you." He thought about it, and slowly brought her hand up to his lips and kissed it softly. She looked at him and then their hands.

"Can I…?" she asked. She unsurely removed the purple glove from his hand. She looked up at him; his eyes were wide. "It's okay, it's just me." She traced his skin lightly with her finger and pressed their hands together, fingers spread. "You have very nice hands." She smiled at him, and he smiled back. She moved her palm slightly to entwine their fingers, and she kissed his hand in return. Wonka absolutely loved the feeling of her lips on his skin. He untangled their fingers and reach up to brush away one stray tear on her cheek and make her look at him. She slowly moved towards him, her hands reaching up to cradle his neck, and she kissed him.

It wasn't the most romantic, or the most passionate, thing either of them had ever felt, but it didn't need to be. There didn't need to be massive amounts of saliva exchange or tongue-fencing. It was just lips upon lips, breath mingling with breath. Just like him, it was sweet, and just like her, it was emotional. At that moment, all she wanted to feel was him liking her, and she didn't want to think about anything else happening in the real world. She just wanted to kiss him once more and get herself lost in it. After a few more moments, she pulled away, looking at him.

"You know where I learned that?" she said. Wonka shook his head. "French class." There was a pause before they both giggled. "That's another thing I like about you. That giggle of yours…it just sums up you." Wonka ran his ungloved fingers through her very soft hair.

"I really like you, Gwyneth Hejl," he confirmed.

"I really like you, Willy Wonka," she said back, resting her head on his shoulder again. "At some point, though, we're going to have to tell the Buckets that they have a new houseguest." But they waited a little longer, and they just sat in comfort with each other.

**that is probably the fluffiest thing i have written in quite some time. and i tried to keep their feelings and kissing experience and such as realistic as i could. the next chapter will be the last. i've had a blast writing this story, and i'm a little sad to see it end, but you'll probably get an email tomorrow telling you that i have a new chapter, which happens to be the last.**


	14. quoting

**hello! chapter the last! i know, i was a little delayed, but life has been busy, and after thanksgiving, things are only going to be busier. so i'm getting this up now. i want to thank everyone for reading this and liking it!**

**chapter 13: quoting**

**a month or so later**

The Bucket family was preparing to eat a wonderful dinner; a table with a lovely tablecloth sat in the center of the house now, the bed to the side, and all the grandparents were sitting around it. Suddenly, the door opened. In walked Wonka, Charlie, and Gwyneth, brushing the snow off their shoulders.

"Sorry we're late!" Charlie said. "We were brainstorming."

"Thought I heard thunder," Grandpa George joked.

"Oh, sorry, that was my stomach," Gwyneth said sheepishly. "Dinner smells wonderful, Mrs. Bucket."

"Thank you, dear," Mrs. Bucket said, smiling. The Buckets had practically adopted Gwyneth as the daughter they never had, since she was so good to Charlie and made him smile so much. Mrs. Bucket was welcome comfort to Gwyneth, who still struggled sometimes with the loss of her mother.

"You staying for dinner, Willy?" Mr. Bucket asked, grabbing a stool from the corner as Wonka took his coat off.

"Yes, please," Wonka said. He was about to take off his hat and set it down when Gwyneth snatched it and placed it atop her own head.

"Someone's got to look spiffy around here," she insisted, "and you're spiffy enough for the rest of us. Share the spiffiness!" Wonka rolled his eyes. "Oh, shut up, you know you like it." She kissed his cheek, smiling.

"I'll shuffle the plates," Grandpa Joe said as everyone sat down. Wonka sat down next to Grandma Georgina, and Gwyneth sat down next to him. He smiled kindly at Georgina.

"You smell like peanuts," Georgina said dreamily to Wonka. "I love peanuts!"

"Oh, thank you!" Wonka said politely. "You smell like…old people and soap. I like it." Georgina made a happy sound and hugged Wonka.

"I love the smell of old people and soap in the morning...it smells like victory," Gwyneth quipped, then paused, and sniffed her wrist. "Oh, wait, that's my new cologne, ironically called 'Victory.'" Charlie giggled.

"Elbows off the table, Charlie," Grandma Josephine said, and the boy quickly removed his elbows.

"Yeah, Charlie," Gwyneth said, folding her arms on the table and resting her head on them. "That's really rude." Wonka and Charlie shared a look, and Wonka knocked the hat off of Gwyneth's head. She looked at him, not removing her head from the table. "You do know that's your hat, right?"

"Well, that's what you get for being a bad influence on Charlie," Wonka scolded teasingly. Gwyneth groaned, removed her arms and head from the table, and leaned over to grab the hat, which had rolled a few inches away from her.

"Fine," she said, plopping the hat on Georgina's head. "It looks better on Grandma Georgina anyway. Quick, Georgie girl, say something Willy would say!"

"Turkey Lurkey Time!" she said happily. Gwyneth held her hand out as if she had made a point.

"See?" she teased. "You could be twins."

"Gwyneth, I think that's too much silliness for one meal," Mrs. Bucket said.

"I beg to differ," Gwyneth retorted. "I think it's exactly enough silliness for one meal; perhaps the silliness might be lacking." The food began to be passed around, and everyone got a little of everything. Once Gwyneth's plate was full, as everyone began to eat, she folded her hands and bowed her head to say a silent prayer to her mother. She had never been very religious, but she started doing this to say hi to her mother, that she missed her, how things were going. As Charlie noticed, he cleared his throat, and everyone stopped eating out of respect for Gwyneth. When she had finished, she looked up.

"Sorry about that," she said, a little embarrassed. Everyone just smiled a little smile at her; Wonka took her hand from under the table and gave it a little squeeze. With that, everyone went back to eating.

"Charlie, how do you feel about little raspberry kites?" Wonka asked.

"With licorice instead of string!" Charlie added. Wonka nodded; Gwyneth peeked up from behind Wonka's shoulder and stared exaggeratingly mouthing "NO" and slicing her hand across her neck, causing Charlie to laugh. Wonka frowned and looked behind him. Gwyneth immediately dropped the act.

"You've got something on your jacket," she covered, pretending to dust his shoulder off.

"Oh, I'm sure," Wonka said sarcastically, grabbing her wrist.

"Hey!" she said. "Need that for food-eating and utensil-operating!" They squabbled for a little while.

"Willy, Gwyneth, no flirting at the dinner table," Mrs. Bucket warned. "Likewise, Charlie, no business at the dinner table."

"Sorry, Mom," Charlie said.

"Sorry, Charlie's mom," Gwyneth said. The consumption of Mrs. Bucket's cooking continued with nothing but pleasant conversation and some laughs. Once everyone was done eating, Charlie headed up to his room, and the grandparents climbed into bed. Wonka and Gwyneth said their goodnights (as Wonka retrieved his hat from Georgina) and headed outside to the Chocolate Room. Gwyneth looked up.

"Okay, I missed this earlier," she asked, "but HOW do you make it snow it the Chocolate Room?" She squinted and could faintly see giant salt shakers. "Please tell me this isn't salt." Wonka giggled.

"No," he said. "Ice shavings; those shakers are insulated in a way to keep it from melting until it falls. And it won't damage the room in any way." Gwyneth nodded.

"You never fail to amaze me," she said, lacing her fingers through his. They smiled at each other and strolled through the Chocolate Room, enjoying each other's company.

"So I've been thinking," Wonka started.

"No!" Gwyneth said in mock shock. Wonka smirked at her. "Sorry, go on."

"No, it'll sound stupid," Wonka said, hesitating.

"No, it won't," Gwyneth insisted. "Unless you're quoting Mike Teavee, you could never sound stupid." Wonka snorted at that. "No, tell me! What were you thinking about?"

"You really want to hear it?" Wonka asked.

"No, I'm just humoring you," Gwyneth said sarcastically. "Of course I want to hear it." Wonka hesitated. "William Cornelius Wonka, stop stalling!" Wonka looked at her, confused.

"My middle name's not Cornelius," he said.

"You're still stalling, darling," she said. Wonka let out a nervous sigh.

"I've just been trying to think of the best way to tell you that I think I'm in love with you," Wonka finally said. Gwyneth stopped; Wonka didn't notice she had stopped walking until their arms had completely extended and he was jerked back to her.

"You think you're in love with me?" she asked. He shyly nodded. "…Okay. How were you thinking of telling me?" He thought about it as they continued walking through the Chocolate Room.

"Well…" he began. "I love that you get cold when it's seventy-one degrees out. I love that it takes you an hour and a half to order a sandwich. I love that you get a little crinkle above your nose when you're looking at me like I'm nuts."

"Hold up, candyman!" Gwyneth stopped him. "You think that by using some movie quote that everyone and their mother thinks is romantic, that that'll work?!"

"Well, it does in the movies!" Wonka shot back.

"Those are MOVIES," Gwyneth pointed out. "Those people aren't in love; they're in love in MOVIES." They both laughed.

"Okay, how about you make me want to be a better man," Wonka suggested. Gwyneth arched an eyebrow, laughing. "Okay…love means never having to say you're sorry?"

"Will you stop?" Gwyneth laughed, punching him playfully in the shoulder.

"You are my exact brand of heroin?" Wonka tried.

"How is a metaphor for drug abuse romantic?" Gwyneth asked the heavens. Wonka laughed at that, not just a giggle, but a full-out laugh.

"Give me a break, I'm trying!" he said.

"You don't have to try," Gwyneth exclaimed. She took both of his hands. "You don't have to make the declaration a big, romantic thing. I'd actually prefer if you didn't, I'm not a roses, champagne, skywriting kind of girl. Just…if you're sure that you're in love with me, just tell me, and I'll believe you. I don't have any reason not to." Wonka looked down at their hands, then back up at her.

"Do you like apples?" he asked. Gwyneth made a puzzled face.

"Yeah, why?"

"I'm in love with you…how do you like THEM apples?" Wonka said, deadpan serious. There was a pause before she knocked his hat off his head and they started laughing.

"You're such a dork," Gwyneth said, "but you're my dork."

"You need to be nicer to my hat," Wonka whined, picking it up.

"No chance," she said, shaking her head. Wonka smiled and leaned in close to place the hat on her head.

"Fine," he whispered into her ear. "Besides, it looks better on you." He kissed her on the cheek before pulling away. Gwyneth smiled at him. "How about you?"

"How about what?" she asked.

"Do you think you're in love with me, too?" he asked nervously. Gwyneth thought to herself for a minute.

"There's a tiny part of me that thinks we're rushing into the whole 'in love' thing," Gwyneth said, "but there's a larger part of me that doesn't really care and makes me feel that, yeah, I might be in love with you." Wonka smiled. "If you need specifics, the small part of me is my brain and the large part of me is my heart." Wonka giggled and pulled her into a hug, which she happily returned. She snuggled against his maroon velvety jacket, which was soft and fuzzy and comfortable. After a few moments, they pulled away. Wonka had a look in his eye.

"Willy, what are you up to?" Gywneth asked warily. Suddenly, Wonka swept Gwyneth up into his arms and began to carry her bridal-style.

"No!" Gwyneth shrieked. "Bad chocolatier! Do I look like Debra Winger to you?!" Wonka didn't listen and continued to carry her over the little bridge that went over the river. She put his hat back on his head. "Hey, Richard Gere, please to be putting me down now?"

"Oh, into the river, okay!" Wonka said cheerfully. Gwyneth threw her arms around his neck.

"Not what I meant!" she exclaimed. Wonka giggled as he reached the other side of the bridge. "I've heard of picking up girls, but you're taking it a little literally, don't you think?"

"Well, I'm only dropping you off," Wonka said innocently, but he still had that glint in his eye. And with that, he promptly dropped her on the ground; since her arms were still around his neck, she kind of had a gentle landing. She glared up at him, trying not to smile.

"Abusive much?" she teased. Wonka shrugged. "Again, you're a dork."

"But I'm your dork," Wonka reminded. Gwyneth giggled, and Wonka stuck a hand out to help her up. When she stood up, it was in close proximity to him. She quickly leaned forward to kiss him before he could do anything else. She held it for a moment before ending the kiss.

"What was that for?" Wonka asked. "Not that I minded."

"Yes," Gwyneth said, sort of having an epiphany. At Wonka's confused expression, she giggled. "Yes, I think I'm in love with you, too." A laughing sound was heard, and they looked out at the river, and the big pink boat with the Oompa-Loompas was passing by; that's where the giggling was coming from.

"No one asked you!" Wonka shouted. "What's so funny?"

"Must be all those doggone cocoa beans," Gwyneth quipped. "Did you know that chocolate releases a property which triggers the release of endorphins? Gives one the feeling of being in love."

"You don't say?" Wonka played along, leaning in to kiss her, but she pulled away.

"Wait, that explains why I think I'm in love with you!" Gwyneth hypothesized. "I've been eating too much chocolate!" Wonka's face fell. "I'm joking, Willy…look at me." She used her hand to move his chin and make him look at her. "You know I make bad jokes all the time…but if I think I'm in love with you, then I think I am. I wouldn't lie to you about that. I may joke, but I mean what I feel." Wonka just looked at her. "Did that make sense?"

"Not entirely," Wonka said. They both giggled. Wonka looked at her adoringly and a little shyly. "Can we make out now?" Gwyneth rolled her eyes.

"You're quoting movies again," she said, "but okay." And with that, they kissed.

**FIN. i couldn't think of a better ending than that. but i think it's cute. this chapter was the hardest for me to write, i think. and now i have to go sleep because i have a four-hour drive ahead of me tomorrow. thanks, everyone, for reading!**


	15. author's note: TWO YEARS LATER

**Hello, all who enjoyed this story. Well, I don't think anyone was expecting to hear from ME today, comsidering I finished this story in November of 2008 (has it really been that long?), but there it is. **

**The reason it looks as though I have updated but actually didn't is I wrote an author's note last night, but decided to remove it. But it still looks as though I've updated this story, which I really didn't. But I might as well address a few things while I have your attention.**

**First of all, I'm pleased to see that people still read and enjoy this story, as I've received many notifications of "Favorite Story", "Favorite Author", and "Story Alert", as well as many positive reviews. Thank you all for the continuing support and positive feedback; as a writer, it's quite humbling, as I do it for the art, not for the accolades (which are still much appreciated).**

**Secondly, several reviews have said "Can't wait for a new chapter!" or "Please write a sequel!" Sadly, the last chapter, back in November of 2008, WAS the last chapter. I planned no follow-up or continuation of this story. That was it. Sorry, folks. In my defense, however, college has bogged me down with counteless research papers, and I also took a poetry course (which resulted in one of my poems being published in my school's literary journal, which was exciting). So not much time for other creative writing than the creative writing I'm required to do for school.**

**But since I'm typing, let me quickly write what Gwyneth, Wonka, and the rest might be doing two years from now:**

Two years have passed since the tour of the factory. Gwyneth and Wonka's relationship is still going, though they're taking it slow (hey, it's the first romantic relationship for either of them, they want to make sure it lasts). Gwyneth, while she helped in the factory every now and again, put her snarkiness and quick it to good use, starting a blog which featured articles of her snarking at anything she pleased: books, movies, music, and the like. She would also shamelessly plug Wonka candy products of all varieties. The blog continues to be successful.

Gwyneth never went to college, but took some online courses to keep her mind and math skills sharp. All science-y type stuff she could learn in the Inventing Room, helping make candy. Charlie acted as her "teacher".

Charlie and his family still live in their house in the factory, and Charlie still attends school (because, hey, his mother cares for his education). He's entering that wonderful stage of life we call "puberty", which results in much teasing from Gwyneth over his voice cracking and his fawning over pictures of Emma Watson. He hopes to one day meet a girl who loves candy as much as he does...who won't be freaked out by Oompa-Loompas.

Wilbur Wonka met Mr. Bucket one day and, having learned that Mr. Bucket worked at a toothpaste factory, formed a lifelong friendship with the man. Mrs. Bucket smiles and tolerates all their discussions on oral hygiene, toothpaste ingredients, and which flavor of mouthwash is really the best: spearmint fresh or icy wintergreen.

Grandpa Joe continues to be a hopeul optimist, Grandpa George continues to be a grumbling sensible old chap, Grandma Georgina is still batsqueak insane, and Grandma Josephine is...just sort of there (kind of the Zeppo of the Marx brothers that make up these octogenarians).

When Tim Burton's "Sweeney Todd" was released in theatres, Gwyneth dragged Wonka to see it. All of the cannibalism jokes form the factory tour made complete sense afterwards.

Every year, Gwyneth visits her mother's grave on Christmas, the day that was her mother's birthday, and the day her mother passed away. She brings flowers, talks to her mom, and cries a little. The day after the one-year anniversary of her mother's death, Wonka said nothing to Gwyneth as she began to cry for seemingly no reason. He stopped his work and held her until she felt better. Which was all she really needed for him to do.

They make jokes sometimes, and they laugh a lot, but sometimes, nothing really needs to be said. Just holding hands or sitting on the couch together is enough, as it should be with any relationship.

**I seriously just made that up as I was typing it. A little sweetness, a little funniness, some obscure references, what more can you ask for? ...Well, except for a sequel that's not gonna happen (sorry). I wish everyone the very best in all your writing endeavors. Thanks for the support, and thanks for the love. You're all wonderful.**


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